


In the End, We All Fall Down

by Numinous_Scribe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Angst, Gen, Horror, Zombie Apocalypse, a lot of people are going to die, it's not gonna be pretty, lots of blood and gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numinous_Scribe/pseuds/Numinous_Scribe
Summary: A lot can happen in a day. In an hour. In the blink of an eye. A lot can happen when you aren't even looking. Much like a storm change comes by unexpected. Much like a nightmare change will bite you if you don't keep your eyes peeled. And if you aren't careful, then in the end, we'll all fall down.(Dedicated to, based on, and inspired by the Korean film, 'Train to Busan'.)





	1. The Things We Don't See

**Author's Note:**

> Characters ages and relationships have been modified for the purposes of this au. Ocs are included. As this is a zombie au, please keep in mind that not everything is going to be pretty, sunshine lollipops and daisies, or happy. Proceed with caution to the end.

_ Rings around rosies and pockets full of posies, _

_ with buildings of silver and gold stolen away. _

_ Jack and Jill took a tumble down a hill, _

_ while Mother Goose’s children went out to play. _

_ Mary, Mary, quite contrary―Tell me, did you know _

_ that the Black Sheep had no wool, _

_ and that the man who wouldn’t say his prayers _

_ wasn’t the only fool? _

_ All the king’s men and all the king’s horses― _

_ see how they run from the butcher’s carving knife, _

_ until the bow breaks and the cradles fall. _

_ Now wasn’t that a dainty dish set for the farmer’s wife? _

_ Ladybird’s house and children are gone now, _

_ And Lucy Locket’s torn her new gown. _

_ Ashes, ashes _

_ In the end, we all fall down. _

**x❌x**

“And you say that Hitoka-chan wrote this?”

Kōshi looked up from the paper in his hands and directly into the eyes of his little sister’s teacher. Offhandedly, and not for the first time since meeting the woman, he admired the sharp angle in which her eyes curved and allowed for thick, long lashes to accentuate the bold grey color that shone beneath them; sometimes, if he could gather enough courage to continue holding her gaze, then he could often catch traces of cobalt weaving through her eyes as a subtle, yet empowering background to the dominant color. They were beautiful, much the same as the rest of the woman they belonged to. It was one of many things he admired about the woman known as Shimizu Kiyoko.

She shifted, gently sweeping smooth black locks behind her ear as she closed her eyes and gave a slight nod. “It’s surprising to me as well. The assignment was to simply write a poem based off of old nursery rhymes― which she went above and beyond on ―but I wasn’t expecting hers to be so…  _ dark _ .”

They both glanced at the paper and fell silent. On one side of the table a concerned teacher mulled over her student’s work for perhaps the thousandth time since it had been handed in, perfectly proofread, neatly written in small, curly handwriting, and full of dark allusions. Kiyoko knew that Hitoka was smart, even by nine year old standards. Smart enough that she had to have spent time carefully researching what she could about supposedly harmless nursery rhymes, only to find that most of them were connected to more somber parts of the entire world’s history. It was endearingly clever on the young girl’s part, and Kiyoko was more than impressed, but what confused her more than anything was  _ why _ such a pleasant yet timid child like Hitoka would write something so utterly morbid. It was, in short, so unlike her.

Worrying had gotten Kiyoko nowhere, though, which had led to seeking out the child’s guardian for a chat to make sure everything was alright with the young girl, ending in the quick meeting that was happening in that very moment. She was tempted to ask if he knew what might have brought about such a change in the child, but even from where she sat, she could see that he was struggling to find an answer himself.

On the other side of the table a caring older brother considered many things at once. Kōshi was fairly confident in how well he knew his sister― many would even be tempted to say that he bordered along the lines of having a complex. Hitoka was a happy child, growing up in the best environment he could manage to provide for her while their father served overseas. He tried his hardest to free up what little time he could to spend it with her, always worried that she would become lonely― but even then he was put at ease in knowing that she had good friends that lived nearby no more than a hop, a skip, and a jump away. She was imaginative, intelligent, and well mannered; a good kid.

But Hitoka wasn’t made up purely of smiles and joy. Since birth, born prematurely, the young girl had grown up with a weak constitution and suffered through many illnesses. To add on to all of that she was all too easily frightened. The poor child would jump at the sight of her shadow if she didn’t know any better. She was clumsy, a crybaby, and easy prey to bullying. In short it was like she was a hazard to her own self.

Which is what made this poem even more puzzling to him. Though his younger sister was all of those things, she also wasn’t one to be unnecessarily and excessively negative. Quick to overwork herself and jump to anxiety inducing conclusions, yes, but never on purpose.

Kōshi sighed, running a hand through thick, ashen blonde hair that was a step removed from being an almost sooty grey. “I’m sorry but I honestly have no idea where any of this―,” he gestured helplessly at the paper that now sat innocently on the table between the two, “came from. Hitoka-chan is…”

He wanted to say ‘ _ Hitoka-chan is fine _ .’ but even he knew that saying things like that so prematurely, despite knowing his little sister, was something that could wind up causing problems for him in the future. The last time he had thought Hitoka was fine then he had found out far too late that she had become the unfortunate target of yet another bullying case…

“I’ll talk to her.” The young man looked up, finally, and refocused his attention on Kiyoko. Kōshi straightened his back and nodded with more determination, reiterating himself. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kiyoko dipped her head appreciatively and stood up from her perch at the edge of her seat to thank Kōshi for sparing a bit of his time to hear out her concerns. As she watched the young man rise from his seat as well, thanking her for caring about the well being of his kid sister, Kiyoko was at a loss. Perhaps it had been too presumptuous of her to think the mystery of a child’s behaviour could be solved in one meeting. Perhaps she was being too doubtful that this one meeting  _ wouldn’t _ solve anything. After all, change was normal in a child Hitoka’s age, and sometimes there was no rhyme or reason to it that could be fixed or stopped. 

She gave her head a slight shake― which loosed a few strands of silky hair into her eyes  ―to clear her mind. As she had thought before: Worrying got her nowhere.

Before Kōshi turned away he lifted his eyes once again to meet with Kiyoko’s and he offered her a hesitant smile. He couldn’t very well see it, since the woman before him was good at masking everything with a cool, professional facade, but he felt the tension ebb off her in subtle waves. It was almost pathetic on his part, as even his own smile felt uncertain and foreign on his face, but he wanted to put her at ease just as much as he wanted that for himself. Changes were abstract and tricky when it came to children, and more often than not it was frightening for those around them to watch it happen without knowing what to do. 

Seeming to understand his unspoken message, almost as if she were glad that somebody had been thinking the same thing as her, the teacher’s eyes softened and she returned his gesture with a small one of her own. Warmth spread across Kōshi’s face and he ducked his head while rubbing the back of his neck and murmured his thanks once again. Before he could make things any more awkward the young man began to back away, sliding his chair back into place under the desk as he went, while turning to go.

“Oh!” He stopped upon hearing the teacher’s gasp, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

“I almost forgot― Will you be coming with Hitoka tomorrow? As a chaperone?”

His brows met in confusion as he tipped his head to the side. 

“For the field trip?” she prompted. 

For a moment Kōshi remained confused. He couldn’t recall a field trip ever having been mentioned to him, and he certainly knew that his schedule hadn’t been cleared for such an event. But the moment was brief, as it dawned on him that he had, in fact, been told about a field trip. The date had even been marked on the calendar with one of Hitoka’s special stickers  _ specifically _ meant for reminders. Eyes widening, Kōshi gasped and rubbed the back of his neck; it was quickly followed by a low groan as it fully dawned on him that his work schedule was going to pose a problem. Even if he was just an intern it didn’t make his job any less hectic than what the researchers of his department did.

Perhaps he could get Ennoshita to cover his shift― although that would mean he’d have to pay him back through means which included expensive liquor and a month’s worth of his favorite food, and if not that then even Kōshi couldn’t be certain what he’d have to do to appease his colleague. While the man known as Ennoshita Chikara wasn’t exactly petty, per se, he knew how to use his impeccable work ethics to accumulate favors from all kinds of people. And if one didn’t pay the Pied Piper, then they were asking for an enemy they couldn’t handle. The thought alone was enough to make him shiver.

But even so, he and Ennoshita were friends, and Kōshi was always good at paying his debts. 

“When will you be leaving?” he asked. The least he could do was get all the facts in order before making such a last minute request. 

“We’re hoping to make it to the seven o’clock train, as the earlier we arrive in Tokyo then the more time we have to enjoy all the activities.” Kiyoko responded crisply while reaching for a light blue paper and handing it over to him for a look. As he scanned over the itinerary he continuously berated himself on the inside for forgetting such an important thing. Hazel eyes quickly ran up and down the paper to memorize the little pieces of information he could― the attractions they’d visit, the times that they were scheduled for breaks, and the time they would leave Tokyo and return home. All in all the field trip was designed to take up most of the day.

Kōshi looked up and smiled, nodding. “I would love to be of help.”

An appreciative light glimmered in the teacher’s eyes and her lips quirked a little wider. “Thank you. Then I suppose we’ll meet in the morning.”

‘ _ When she says it like that it almost sounds like we just planned a secret date. _ ’ The thought made the young man’s face flare with a self-conscious warmth yet again, and he quickly hid it with a half bow.

“Have a good evening, Shimizu-sensei!” 

“You as well Sugawara-san.” Clasping her hands in front of her Kiyoko returned the bow. 

The young man quietly turned and walked out of the room, gently sliding the door shut behind him. He sighed, rubbing his cheek in a vain attempt to calm himself down and ease away the ever present heat. In the end, Shimizu Kiyoko’s beauty was just too much for him; as appealing of an ideas as it was, a simple, middle-class working guy like himself didn’t stand much of a chance at being her boyfriend when she looked amazingly competent on her own. But it didn’t dissuade him from musing about the “what if’s”. 

Kōshi breathed in deeply before glancing to his right.

A small row of chairs had been set out next to the classroom door― a small courtesy for those that came in and had to wait for an audience with the teacher, or just if they were tired, or even for the students that had to wait out in the halls until their parents were finished with their meeting. Sitting in the middle of this row was a small girl, her short, golden-wheat hair neatly arranged into a cute side ponytail that was decorated with a little cluster of stars. She fiddled with an object in her hands, which were mostly hidden by the oversized sleeves of the pink sweater she wore, all the while constantly making little anxious faces directed towards her lap. Kōshi tucked his hands in his pockets and strode towards her.

Hitoka jumped when a shadow fell over her, nearly dropping the item in her hands. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest― more so than it had been since her brother had gone in to talk to Kiyoko-sensei. 

She wasn’t certain why her teacher had wanted to talk with her brother. PTA’s weren’t scheduled until next month, and Hitoka had made certain she was keeping up with all the assignments and playing well with the other students. The only other reason she knew why teachers called in parents or guardians to talk was because a student had been bad. 

And that was what worried her to the point where her stomach coiled itself into knots even as she stared up at her big brother.

Had she been bad? The question rolled around in her mind, accumulating in size and intensity much like a snowball that was sent down a long and winding track without an end to make it stop. She hadn’t thought so. Rules were practically sacred to her, so she kept to them borderline religiously― she didn’t even  _ dare _ to eavesdrop at the door when she had been told to wait outside! But now that Kōshi was finished talking with her teacher she couldn’t bring herself to put a voice to her question in fear of the answer she might receive.

Hitoka searched her brother’s face for an answer, or at least clues to one. All she found, though, were traces of a fading blush and soft hazel eyes probing her own in search of answers for questions he seemed to have as well. It did little to ease the tension building within her chest and, unable to take it much longer, she brought the item in her hands to her lips and pushed down on the button, inhaling deeply. 

Kōshi’s gaze instantly riveted on the inhaler and a slight frown creased across his face in concern. It worried him whenever she had to use it; he hated hearing the sharp wheeze of her breath as she inhaled the medicine, a constant reminder that her health wasn’t perfect, and that there wasn’t much he could do to help her. 

The child took another puff before settling down with a shaky breath. She reluctantly looked back up at him, the light glancing off her caramel eyes making them appear smaller, more frightened, and utterly guilty. For a split second he wondered what could possibly make Hitoka anxious enough to feel guilty. She hadn’t done anything  _ wrong _ so much as eye catching and concerning, though upon realizing that he understood then that Hitoka probably didn’t know what was going on. After all, no one had told her why her teacher had asked to speak with him. Without a reason to go with the cause to keep her rational then it was more than likely she had let her thoughts run away with herself yet again.

Seeing how distressed his sister already was, Kōshi couldn’t bring himself to discuss the poem with her― not now, anyways. Instead he offered a soft smile and his hand, now extra warm after having spent time in his pocket. Instinctively, Hitoka reached out and wrapped her smaller hand around his, little fingers tightly curling around the broad frame of his palm. Even at nine years old his baby sister still had the hands of a younger child; it was amazing how she never seemed to grow any bigger, and yet still miraculously managed to fit in his grasp. 

This thought caused his grip to tighten ever so slightly as he helped her out of the chair. Even if Hitoka were to never change physically there was always the chance that she could slip through his fingers in other ways. Change was inevitable, of course, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t― wouldn’t ―scare him. And if a change was what Hitoka was going through right now he was afraid of what might happen if he were to let her go.

Kōshi turned and began walking away, Hitoka trailing along, her little black shoes clicking against the tile and filling the silence of the hallway. The young man peeked at the child out of the corner of his eye and then dipped his head.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” he asked.

The little girl’s eyes snapped away from the floor, her gaze focusing on the easy going grin that played with her brother’s lips. There was something about the way her brother smiled― it was warm and inviting, the most natural thing in the world and just as equally calming. Even with as nervous as she felt Hitoka couldn’t stop herself from being put at ease just by looking at Kōshi’s smile, and hesitantly returning it with one of her own.

“F-for the fieldtrip?” Her stuttering caused her to break eye contact out of embarrassment, but her enthusiasm for the subject quickly overrode such feelings. “Yes! Everyone’s been talking about it nonstop. Kei and Tadashi are really looking forward to visiting the museum, and Sho-kun has been researching fish because he wants to name them all off when we go to the aquarium. He found a fish named Tobio too!”

Kōshi chuckled as his sister rambled on, and they exited the building, leaving their tension behind. They crossed the parking lot, Hitoka hopping across the white lines while tightly clinging to his hand to keep her balance. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he clicked a button that caused the lights on a small blue car to flash in response. Kōshi hurried to open the back door on the passenger’s side and just as quickly the little girl disappeared into the vehicle. He shut the door and ran around the car and hopped in.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, Kōshi waited with a lopsided grin, saying, “Then let’s hurry home so we can prepare lunches for tomorrow. Are you ready?”

The buckle clicked into place just as Hitoka looked up in surprise. “You’re coming with me tomorrow?”

He nodded. To his delight a wide smile broke across the little girl’s face, revealing a missing canine on the bottom row and a tiny dimple on her left cheek. She pressed the heels of her hands into her cheeks as if they could somehow suppress the overflowing giddiness within. A breathy giggle escaped her, causing her smile to broaden at the mere thought that she would get to spend an entire day with her older brother. 

Glad― and mostly relieved ―to see Hitoka cheerful once again, Kōshi turned the key in the ignition, the machine growling to life.

**x❌x**

A low rumbling slowly crawled through the dim hallway, bouncing off the white walls, echoing the beat of a drum. Heavy footsteps intermingled with the sound, a sharp  _ tap-tap-tap _ that effortlessly kept in time with the grating noise. Between each step and amidst the rumbling papers were constantly being shifted and followed by an inconsistent stream of discontent hums.

Dark eyes poured over the information that bombarded each sheet, narrowing more and more for each and every paragraph they scanned over.

_ “Gas leaks in Miyagi’s Genetics Division resulted in several staff casualties; contamination of local rivers and lakes in Hyogo, Okayama, and Hiroshima leading to a decrease in the aquatics population; strikes in the Hokkaido and Chiba branches; no communication from Okinawa in the past two weeks… _ ”

Ennoshita clucked in disapproval, lowering the papers away from his face. Too many problems were starting to occur at the same time and suddenly it was all  _ his _ responsibility to take care of it. He was starting to think that he had become a private secretary rather than just a simple intern, though he supposed that’s what he got for being so efficient at his job. As  _ great _ as the unofficial raise was, Chikara didn’t want to deal with all the extra work― especially when it required him to speak with a multitude of disagreeable people. From calling repair technicians and clean up crews to arguing with insurance agencies, right down to getting the media crews to mind their own business― all things he could do without. He didn’t need any more grey hairs than what he had already accumulated from working this job.

Rounding a corner, Ennoshita entered a large, square lobby. It was by far the most plainest part of the building he had ever been in, and was usually the most emptiest as well, as most everyone remained wholed up in their labs. It did nothing to compare to the one on the level above, which was more directly open to the public if one was rich enough and had important political power. There all the business parts of Ashworth Bio Division were taken care of in neat looking conference rooms and pristine cafeterias. But it was on the second level where all the real work was taken care of― where doctors and scientists worked in controlled labs to find cures to all kinds of diseases, dissect individual functions of the body down to a single nerve, and explore the capabilities of the mind.

He often felt like a bridge between the two worlds, although maybe the correct term was an errand boy. From the moment he had started working for this company he had done nothing but run errands between the first level and the second level back and forth without so much as a pause in between. Though he wasn’t the only intern around he seemed to be the only one that did this frequently, thus making him favorite to use.

Even his friend and co-worker, Sugawara, didn’t get  _ nearly  _ as busy as he did.

A heavy, tired pressure pushed down on his chest and he sighed, slowing to a stop in the middle of the room. ‘ _ From the way things are shaping out, _ ’ he thought, ‘ _ I don’t think I’m going to be getting much sleep for the next couple of weeks.’ _

His pocket buzzed, jolting him out of his self-pitying. Ennoshita dug into his pocket, pulling out a shabby grey flip phone― the cheapest he had managed to buy ―flipping it open and immediately answering the call without so much as a glance at the ID.

“Ennoshita,” he said, voice cool and collected, the exact opposite of how he felt.

The person on the other end of the line chuckled and he recognized the voice immediately.

“Sugawara-san? What is it? You don’t usually call this late.” The young man glanced at the watch on his wrist, the papers in his hand crinkling as his fingers pressed together tightly to keep them from falling out of his grasp. It was already well into the evening, and Sugawara had been off work since three to pick his kid sister up from school.

“ _ No need to be so formal, it is just me after all. _ ” Still chuckling, Kōshi slipped right into a casual conversation, instantly causing Chikara to loosen up. It didn’t take his co-worker long to get to the point, however. “ _ I was wondering if you could do me a favor and cover for me tomorrow? Hitoka-chan has a field trip and I’m attending as a chaperone.” _

Ennoshita exhaled deeply through his nose, taking a few steps towards a wall in an attempt to make the conversation feel less open in the big space. Just when he had thought his workload couldn’t get any bigger…

“ _ I know this is incredibly last minute and that you’re already busy, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. Just name your price and I’ll cover it.” _

He scratched his forehead and sighed again. Taking on even more work was a drag, simple as that. But when Sugawara― and usually anyone else ―asked him to help cover their shifts then he also wasn’t one to say no all that often. And unlike a few people, when Sugawara promised to repay him he always kept his word― doing a damn good job while he was at it. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose for a good moment, allowing the static from the phone line and the little homely sounds occurring on the other side to mingle with all the background noise of his current surroundings. A door opened further down the hall and someone began shuffling around. Ennoshita barely looked up from his intense stare-off with the floor as the footsteps drew closer, only catching a brief glimpse of a white lab coat as the person it was attached to slowly passed him by. 

“You are going to owe me big time then,” he finally answered, voice growing stern. “Ashworth is already breathing down my neck as it is due to the influx of problems in several different regions and he’s pushing for everything to be resolved by―”

A heavy thud interrupted him and he pulled the receiver away from his ear. Taking a couple steps backwards, Ennoshita peered down the hallway he had come from and spied the doctor that had walked by a few moments ago leaning face first against the wall next to the elevator. The back of the man’s head was balding, pale and shiny, as if slick with fresh sweat. He coughed several times, each one deepening to the point where it almost sounded like he was quite literally trying to expel his lungs. Ennoshita took a cautious step in the man’s direction and called out to him.

“Sir, are you alright? Would you like for me to call for help?” 

The doctor jumped at his voice and violently shook his head. He waved Ennoshita off, rasping, “I’m― I’m just feeling a little ill. I’ll be going home soon, so don’t worry about me. Have a good evening.”

The elevator door opened and the doctor stumbled inside before Ennoshita could protest. His shoulders dropped as the door closed and he looked in the opposite direction to see if he could guess which lab the doctor had come from, brows knitting in concern as he placed the receiver to his ear once again.

He failed to notice the reddish streak that covered the buttons to the elevator.

“ _ Is everything alright?” _ Kōshi’s voice pulled him away from his search and he looked down at the floor once again.

“I don’t know…,” he responded slowly. “A doctor just left a few seconds ago and he didn’t look too good. We’ve been having a strange case of gas leakages since you got off work, and then there are the different problems occurring in other prefectures― it’s all very odd.”

Ennoshita shook his head, peering at the papers in his grasp. “Anyways, I have things that I need to take care of right now, so we’ll have to discuss this later. I’ll see you Thursday, Sugawara-san.”

“ _ Ah, thanks Chikara. I’ll bring you something back from Tokyo too, sound okay?” _

He snorted. “Only if you really want to. You and Hitoka-chan have fun for me, because God knows that I’d rather being going on a field trip to Tokyo than play at being Ashworth’s personal work dog.”

Sugawara laughed. “ _ Alright, take care. And thanks again. I really do owe you big time.” _

Ennoshita hummed and the line clicked silent. Snapping his phone shut, the young man whirled around and the balls of his feet and began stalking away down the hallway the doctor had come from, all the while cursing himself for having maintained such perfect work ethics.

**x❌x**

Hitoka led her brother down the aisle, pulling him into a row of two empty seats near the front of the car― placing herself by the window and him closer to the aisle. He had been constantly looking at his phone, whether it was because he had received messages from work or because he was expecting a call, she couldn’t be certain. She knew that work was important to him, as well as vital to their way of living, but sometimes Hitoka wished that her brother didn’t have to be so glued to his job. Although she also knew that his boss― a haughty American named Jared Ashworth, head of the Ashworth Bio Division ―was a very rude and demanding person and could very well fire her brother whenever he felt like it. (The one time encounter she had had when she had gone to work with Kōshi on one occasion still left a bad taste in her mouth, even to this day.)

More kids and their guardians began to fill up the car. Two blurs raced to the front, a stark contrast between them as one was bright orange while the other was darker. Hinata and Kageyama collapsed into the seats in front of her, bickering as per usual about who beat whom first. In Hinata’s opinion he had come in first, as he had rounded the corner faster and had claimed the window seat before Kageyama. Whereas in Kageyama’s eyes the one who had won the race was himself, as he had sat down before Hinata. 

Though Hitoka often tried to prevent them from fighting, she was particularly unwilling to get between them on this one. Neither of them had set a clear goal, and if she intervened then they would ask her to be the judge. If that were to happen then her choice would be unfair, and then a whole new argument would begin. 

All before seven in the morning.

Further back in the car three boys took their seats; two tall, gangly looking boys― siblings, if one were to base it off their matching honey-blonde hair, amber eyes, and familiar attitudes with each other ―slid into the forward facing chairs, while the smaller in the green shirt one sat facing them. 

“It’ll be awhile before we get to Tokyo, so you can use my shoulder if you’re still sleepy~.” The oldest boy reached out and pinched his younger brother’s cheek, causing the thick glasses to tilt awkwardly on his face. Kei slapped his brother’s hand away accompanied with a scowl meant for burning holes.

“I’m not! And I won’t get tired either!” he protested, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. Akiteru snickered at his brother’s attempt at bravado, seeing right through him as he tried to cover up a yawn. 

“Tsukki, did you remember to bring your DS? You still owe me a rematch on Mario Kart.” The boy across from Kei reached for his backpack, pulling it into his lap before rifling around the contents inside. Within seconds he retrieved an old, smudged, blue DS and held it up eagerly, grinning at his best friend.

Kei nodded, leaning over to grab the bag he had placed behind his legs, only to stop and reconsider. He leaned back and settled himself into a comfortable position. “Let’s wait. If we play now then the batteries won’t last on the trip back.”

Tadashi considered this, slowly putting the DS back in his backpack. He hadn’t really thought about that, mostly concerned with killing time now than with what he would do later, but when Tsukki mentioned it then it made a lot of sense. Putting the backpack behind his legs like his friend had done (since he wasn’t tall enough to reach the shelf above, and he didn’t want to ask Akiteru to do it for him) Tadashi wiggled in his seat until he too was comfortable. He turned to look out the window, wondering how much longer it would be before the train departed for Tokyo.

Across the aisle a large man wondered the exact same thing, checking the near empty train station in hopes that he might catch sight of the station master signaling their departure. The attendants had already boarded the train and were due to make an announcement for their leave at anytime, he assumed.

A broad hand suddenly gripped his shoulder and he jumped.

He missed seeing a lone straggler running past his window, stumbling every other step while constantly looking over their shoulder with wild eyes.

“Did you guys see what I just saw? Tell me I wasn’t dreaming!” A young man with a close shaved head looked down the aisle with an enchanted expression, a rosy tint blooming along his tan complexion. Directly across from him his spiky haired companion spun around in his seat, sitting on his knees as he peered over the edge.

“If you mean that goddess that walked by just now then  _ hell yes _ I saw what you just saw!” He looked over his shoulder and grinned, the same pinkish color darkening his cheeks as well, an enamored sparkle glimmering in his wood-hued eyes. 

Asahi stretched in his spot to see who it was they were talking about. It wasn’t difficult, as the pretty woman stood at the front of the car with a clipboard in her hands, tilting her head slightly in different directions to count over the seats filled with children. He felt his face grow warm, understanding the well deserved nickname Nishinoya had given her without any need for an explanation. She was truly beautiful. With shoulder length ebony hair that glowed with health, a perfectly rounded face that complimented symmetrical features, the sleek yet professional look her grey button up shirt provided to her form― it was like she came from a modern fairytale. 

Asahi shook his head and quickly looked away, nervously scratching his cheek. A woman like that was bound to have an equally impressive boyfriend, and besides, they were strangers that most likely would never see each other again, let alone even have a single conversation. 

“Try not to bother her, okay guys?” He said, reaching out between the two as if the action could possibly stop them from doing something stupid. At most he was afraid that their mouths would run away with themselves and they’d overdo it with compliments should the pretty lady happen to pass by. He couldn’t bear to have another incident like the other day…

“What are you talking about Asahi?” Tanaka turned and wrapped his arm around the big man’s shoulders, grinning mischievously. 

“We’re absolute saints!” Noya declared. He winked before returning to his vigil of admiring the pretty woman. It was only a matter of seconds before Tanaka’s grip loosened, arm slipping away from his shoulders, and he too joined Nishinoya in his watch.

He sighed and eyed the station beyond the window once again, ready to leave.

A few cars down the line a high school volleyball team eagerly awaited their next challenge: a mini training camp with several of Tokyo’s elite high schools. It was only one of many dreams come true for members of Aoba Johsai’s team, but they were glad all their hard work had paid off to bring them such an opportunity. The third years in particular were most pleased as it proved that they were capable of achieving many things, and if they could accomplish this, then there was greater hope for them to defeat their ultimate rival,  _ Shiratorizawa _ .

“Alright, alright. Settle down everyone. We’ll be leaving any minute now.” Coach Mizoguchi called, eyeing the players that hadn’t sat down yet with a particular thin eyed glare. Once everyone had found their seats he sat beside his senior and head coach of the team and promptly followed his example, folding his arms over his chest and letting his eyes droop themselves closed. It was going to be a long trip to Tokyo, so he might as well get what sleep he can.

A couple seats ahead a wavy haired brunette pressed his face against the cool glass, his breath faintly fogging the clear surface. Excitement pooled within his core, filling him to the brim, infiltrating his bones until it felt like he was buzzing. Beside him his childhood friend browsed through social media on his phone, silent as ever but also feeling the hype course through his veins. They’d been a team for as long as they could remember and finally,  _ finally _ , their efforts were paying off. 

“We’re finally being recognized, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa pulled himself away from the window and leaned against Iwaizumi’s shoulder, attempting to sneak a peek at the phone’s contents, and failing miserably at that.

Iwaizumi tilted the phone away from the setter’s prying eyes, simultaneously shoving the brunette off of him― though he could have done without the whining. “In the end hard our hard work got us somewhere.”

“I bet we’ll learn some sort of secret technique that’ll absolutely destroy Shiratorizawa at the Inter High.” A tuft of pinkish-brown hair popped over the seat in front of them, accompanied with slanted eyes and a sly smile. Seconds later the monkey like boy was joined by a messy haired sloth.

“No, if anything our ace will get a magical girl power up that’ll destroy the court and permanently blind our enemies― because some things are just not meant to be seen.”

Iwaizumi leaned forward to cuff the duo and they ducked behind their seats, cackling. The sharp eyed young man grumbled before turning to his friend, who was struggling to contain his laughter behind his hand, and settled for punishing the one that couldn’t hide behind his chair. He reached out and pulled Oikawa’s ear and the setter yelped in a mixture of surprise and pain. The brunette retaliated, whining as he fought to get Iwaizumi’s hands away from his face. 

Matsukawa and Hanamaki resurfaced from behind their seats, a new debate taking place.

“How much do you wanna bet Oikawa ends up on the bottom?” Matsukawa rubbed his chin in a scholarly fashion as he scrutinized the pair before him. 

Hanamaki shook his head. “No, Iwaizumi’s too soft and he’ll eventually let Oikawa off the hook, effectively giving him the upper hand that will place the ace in the compromising position.”

“Kinky.”

“Oi! Stop making it sound like we’re in a porno!” Iwaizumi hissed, his face turning fifty shades of red as he held Oikawa’s hands a safe distance away from himself. The duo snickered, sinking behind their seats again to avoid any potential harm from the now embarrassed ace.

“I better not be hearing what I think I’m hearing,” came the low yet threatening drawl a few rows behind. A shiver ran up the third years spines’ and they immediately withdrew from the discussion, Iwaizumi releasing Oikawa as the two resettled themselves, while Hanamaki and Matsukawa occasionally made eye contact that sent them into silent bouts of laughter.

Beyond the walls of the train they faintly heard the sound of whistle blowing, and the car lurched forward and then backwards. No one paid any attention to the passenger that stumbled into the vestibule at the last second, or saw how she blindly ran into a wall. No one watched as she staggered her way towards the empty washrooms, dragging herself inside and promptly locking the door behind her. 

No one saw anything, save for what they wanted to see. And what they wanted to see was far more blinding than anything else, often the reason why nobody noticed that change had already made its appearance, and unlike many beliefs it wasn’t grand, as it ought to have been. But the consequences of change would always make themselves known, one way or another.

The early morning train to Tokyo began its departure, the time before normality shattered short, and the unaware remained blissfully so.


	2. What We Don't Expect

_ Ring around the rosies _

_ a pocketful of posies _

_ ashes, ashes _

_ we all fall down! _

**x❌x**

Ragged breaths ripped through her chest, pouring from her lips in puffs that seemed to rebound in the small quarters and hit her damp face like a warm, moist breeze. Her whole body buzzed with the familiar energy of panic, but she had never in her twenty-three years of life experienced something quite like this. It was hot, sudden, burning quickly with every sporadic beat of her heart. The sensation spread through her chest and up her neck, searing what little rational thought she held onto. Her vision wavered briefly as heated tears coalesced and dribbled down her face.

The woman muttered incoherently to herself, breath shortening with each word as her lungs seized on themselves. Her head swam; emotions and memories collided, tripping over each other, stumbling around until everything became muddled. The sequencing of how everything came to be disappeared in the chaotic murk until only one fact remained: Someone had bitten her, and now there was something terribly wrong happening in this moment.

With trembling fingers the woman fumbled with the buckle of the belt around her waist, the hard woven fabric an almost unyielding entity to her struggles. She had to make a tourniquet. She had to make one to prevent major blood loss— the floor was already too stained to be considered safe —even at the cost of losing the leg. 

Her struggling was quickly brought to a halt when suddenly she stretched until her shoulder blades rubbed painfully against the wall and the smooth bottoms of her sandals no longer slid along the floor as a spasm overcame her body, breaking apart as if from the center of her spine, until it encompassed her wholly from top to bottom. Her limbs refused to acknowledge her pitiful attempts to regain control. She trembled in place― or was that just the train moving as it sped along the tracks?  ―barely breathing enough air to stave off the tingling ache that raced through every nerve in her being until they all started to grow numb. 

At the edge of her wavering vision she caught sight of her left leg. It was enough to make the tears stream faster― pouring down her cheeks, streaking through her dark hair, and intermingling with the snot that consistently dribbled from her nose. She hadn’t had the time to get a good look at it before, as she had only delayed the inevitable through other means, and now she wished she had never seen it. 

In the open wound itself was the color of fine wine, with blood seeping from each individual mark left by sharp incisors; dripping down at an angle around her shin, winding its way around her calf until it slithered over the folds in her ankle and soaked her sock, flooded her shoe,  _ drip-drip-drop _ -ped until it splashed against the fake tiled floor. The dull shine of the washroom’s lighting reflected angrily against the deep velvet color to make the wound look like a kiss gone horribly wrong. Between poorly clotted streaks a fire was alight on the surface of the skin, highlighting the burst veins that raced their way up her leg with each and every thundering pulse, creating a feverish masterpiece in the place of picturesque health.

The spasms ceased and the woman collapsed in her seat, sliding to the ground in weak submission to the command of gravity. She buried her face in her hands, uncaring of the blood that had clung to them when she had placed them out to― clumsily ―ease her fall. Wheezing had brought about a repulsive itch in her throat― the kind that heavy snot-nosed cries brought about, clogging her throat with a nasty goop that left only a small passageway for breathing and a strong need to cough it out until her throat was raw, just to make sure it was all gone. The woman began to cough― a guttural, barking noise ―and once she started, it was almost impossible to convince herself to stop. The sensation roiled and coiled within her, wiping out every last molecule of oxygen before she even had a chance to make use of it, and soon she was coughing hard enough that it was almost as if she were going to be sick.

The world, as small as hers had suddenly become, grew foggier. But it didn’t come from the constant stream of tears that rolled out of her eyes, nor was it a bright kind of fog― the magical kind that seemed to appear in fairytales or strange visions of heaven. It was a sleepy kind of fog that rolled over her like the early morning grey that hung over a lake; mysteriously inviting. She was slowly losing to it, invited to sleep as it wrapped its thick tendrils around her much like a cocoon. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, a particular memory of when she was a child learning how to skip rocks with her older brother flickering on like a personal home movie, eyelids drawing shut like curtains to block out the light.

It was only a second, but it lasted as long as an eternity.

There came a quick procession of sharp raps against the door. Her eyes snapped open.

The knocking came again, loud and strikingly clear, as if it were right next to her ear. Her head twitched and she parted her mouth, a gooey concoction of saliva and blood running over her lip to slide eagerly down her chin and onto a stained white shirt. She could sense it, there on the other side, something she wanted,  _ badly _ . 

Something with soft, tearable flesh and fresh warm blood.

“ _ Miss? Are you alright in there? _ ”

Something  _ alive _ .

**x❌x**

Hitoka rested her cheek in her cupped hand and gazed out the window to watch the train station slowly disappear from sight. Of course, as soon as the train had started moving then her brother  _ had _ to have gotten a call from work. He’d left with the promise that he wouldn’t take long before promptly disappearing into the nearest vestibule to lock himself in a washroom for a bit more privacy. Though she was used to it, sometimes Hitoka wished Kōshi would just turn off his phone and keep it that way. At least then she could talk with him about a variety of things that would keep herself from pondering the deeper aspects of their conversation from earlier that morning. 

A heavy sigh escaped her as the slight rattle of the train helped her drift off into a different corner of her mind.

Kōshi had done well to let the night pass before bringing up the real reason Kiyoko-sensei had asked to speak with him. It allowed her a little time to calm her irrational thoughts and dash the equally nonsensical conclusions away, though something still bothered her that not  _ everything _ was quite alright. When he had brought up the poem he hadn’t been angry or disappointed in her, but the way the worry placed a weight on his already exhausted shoulders had been a painful sight to Hitoka. 

Hitoka knew, deep down, even if her brother would wholly deny it, that she was some kind of burden to the young man known as Sugawara Kōshi. It seemed that ever since she had been born her brother was the one taking care of her. The first part of her life had mostly been viewed in hospital rooms, looking up at the faces of nurses and doctors whose names she found too hard to remember, but the one she always waited eagerly to see was that of her dear big brother. Because of her Kōshi never got much time to spend with his friends from school, never got much time to be a stupid teenager and have fun, never got much time to pursue love. He would come straight to the hospital after school, do his homework, eat dinner with her, talk, talk, play, and talk some more. 

He had even given up playing volleyball just to make sure that she wouldn’t be alone.

Perfect health had never been― and probably never would be ―something that applied Hitoka. It was the most obvious fact about her― the inhaler that remained hidden away in her coat pocket was an undeniable testament to that. Entirely weak, both through physicality and mentality, Hitoka had lived each and every year of her short life dependent on her brother’s care. Though she knew that as a child it was okay to be reliant on one’s caretaker, she didn’t want to burden him to the point where he worked and worried himself into the ground because of her. She was already convinced as it was that her sickliness and neediness combined had been what drove their mother far, far away from them— she didn’t want the same to be applied to her brother.

It was also because of her that Kōshi had been held back from accepting the rich opportunities of life. After their father had gone to serve overseas Kō had been forced to quit college halfway through his second year just to take care of her. Though with his limited college experience he had been able to take on an internship at a high class research division. The work itself was long and taxing, and the pay was barely enough to help them get by until their father’s stipend from serving in the army came in, and although Hitoka did what she could around the house it never felt like enough to her. It didn’t stop her brother from coming home exhausted, nor did it stop him from worrying about her when things weren’t going so well; Hitoka couldn’t bear to see him so distraught anymore. 

And so, when she finally gave her brother an answer, she only revealed to him half of the truth.

“ _ A nightmare. It was because of a nightmare. _ ”

That was why it seemed so scary, so dark, she had reasoned. The research she had done on those old nursery rhymes had given her too much to think about, so much that she over thought about it until she fell asleep, and then those thoughts had leaked into her dreams and tormented her. 

Upon hearing that the weight appeared to slide off of her brother’s shoulders, and he’d let her off with a sigh of relief before trying to comfort her over the old nightmare. But it didn’t keep Hitoka from feeling any less guilty. It was only half the reason she had written that poem, after all.

The sun was beginning to climb through the sky, rising over the mountains at just the right angle to send a shaft of bright, early morning light right into Hitoka’s eye, effectively drawing her out of her deep reflection. She rubbed her eyes, turning away from the window.

“ _ Psst! Hitoka-chan! _ ”

She nearly jumped out of her seat with a shriek― thankfully, though, no sound had actually come out of her ―when she opened her eyes and saw Hinata’s head poking between the seats in front of her. The boy grinned playfully, the corners of his lips lifting up his rounded cheeks to naturally meet with sparkling tawny eyes, his mess of naturally bright orange hair falling over them in fluffy curls. Hitoka clutched her pounding chest as he disappeared from his curious perch, only for him to reappear seconds later claiming her brother’s empty seat with an unceremonious  _ plop _ .

Hinata looked around suspiciously for a few seconds, twisting every direction he could think to look before turning towards her with his hand over his mouth like he had a secret to tell. 

“Wanna see the cool thing I got from my uncle?” he asked, voice lowered to an eager whisper. Hitoka remained still a moment, wondering if she should really agree to see Sho-kun’s new trinket. Sometimes the hyperactive boy’s definition of ‘ _ cool _ ’ didn’t always line up with her own, and the things that he would show her would sometimes get  _ her _ into trouble with him. 

It didn’t take long for her to agree, however, as his excitement had a way of easily rubbing off onto others. Just meeting his gaze and seeing the innocent keenness in his eyes alone was enough to convince her to― reluctantly ―nod her head. 

The boy’s smile grew wider, if that were even possible, and he shoved his hand into the large pocket of his cargo shorts. Moments later Hinata retrieved the desired item, shoving extra things such as candy wrappers and lint back into his pocket, and he offered to Hitoka an item that made her gasp and look around to make certain nobody was paying any attention to them.

“My Uncle Bokuto sent this to me as an early birthday present, in case he wouldn’t be able to come down and visit this time,” Hinata whispered proudly as he displayed a small pocket knife. It wasn’t terribly large, although not extended to its full length― perhaps around three and a half to four inches if she had to give an educated guess based on sight alone. The right size to fit in a young boy’s hand. A thin, lead colored metal casing protected both sides of the blade, leaving narrow openings on opposing sides― only one of which the non-serrated edge was designed to go through. A large clip was screwed into place on the backside to make it more convenient in where the knife was placed, allowing for easier access should it be needed in an emergency. (Although why Hinata would actually need a knife was beyond her.) The final touch to this weapon was a carving of a bird’s wing curving up the side. Upon closer inspection Hitoka realized that the wing was actually made up of individual kanji, and the message itself was a rather old idiom:  _ “Kishi kaisei” _ .  _ Wake from death and return to life _ . 

It was a rather dark and ominous sounding phrase, even for something that an uncle would send to his nephew, but Hitoka knew that its intent was good and surprisingly fitting of Shoyo’s character. Once, she remembered, they’d had a lesson about idioms. Kiyoko-sensei had explained to them that each idiom had a deeper sort of meaning to it, and back in the older days they were like proverbs― life lessons of a sort. For many  _ kishi kaisei _ was like coming out of a desperate situation in one magnificent burst, like a miraculous comeback. Hinata was good at doing things like that, much like how one could always expect the sun to show up the next day even after it had long since disappeared to light up the other side of the world.

“My uncle said in the card that the inscription on the hilt here is called a posy,” Shoyo continued, one finger lightly tracing the kanji. “But then his friend Kuroo added in the card that a posy was actually writing in a ring. I think a posy is cool either way, so I'm gonna keep calling this a posy.”

The boy chuckled to himself, but regardless of how cool Hinata’s present really was, especially from an intellectual point of view like hers, it was incredibly  _ bad _ that he had brought it along with them on the train. If he were to get caught with it then his gift would be confiscated, and not only that, but there was a good possibility that Shoyo might even face  _ suspension _ for bringing a weapon with him to a school field trip.

“You shouldn’t have brought this here with you!” Hitoka whispered back while anxiously looking around once again. “How did you even get it on here in the first place?”

“Kageyama helped.”

At the sound of his name Tobio’s head peered around the edge of his seat, large blue eyes squinted in suspicion. “Helped with what?”

Hinata held up the knife, only to have Hitoka quickly reach out and shove it out of sight. The suspicion eased out of Kageyama’s eyes and he nodded. “Yeah, we just passed it back and forth while the teachers were going through and checking that we had everything. Just like in that movie, ‘ _ Now You See Me’ _ !”

‘ _ Does that trick even work with a pocket knife?’  _ Hitoka wondered. 

“No you dummy! The movie was ‘ _ Now You See Me  _ 2’! It was the card spring trick!” Hinata argued, shoving his present back into his pocket. The duo immediately launched into another argument and Hitoka tried to make herself seem as non-existent as possible, still unwilling to get between them over something rather ridiculous. If anything their arguments were all starting to sound the exact same, albeit about different topics.

“It was the first movie!”

“No it was the second!”

“Stupid, I keep telling you it was the first. They had to hide the card from all the military guys and get it through that high-tech security. I remember watching it in the first movie!”

Hinata grit his teeth. “Yeah well your memory sucks! The first movie was about how they robbed a bank in Paris so they could get into a magic organization!”

They carried on like that for a little while, running in circles accusing each other of having a bad memory. Meanwhile Hitoka finally began working up the willpower to step between them and end their argument. They were probably starting to bother the other passengers that weren’t their classmates― or used to Kageyama and Hinata’s frequently occurring bickering sessions. And besides, Hinata was actually right, despite his memory being just as poor as Kageyama’s.

But somewhere along the lines, while Hitoka had been mentally fortifying herself, Tobio shifted the argument to something else.

“Your memory’s so bad that you couldn’t even remember the rules of the race from earlier!” the boy cried angrily.

Shoyo’s face grew a spectacular shade of red as his cheeks puffed out in indignation. “Do too! And I won fair and square ‘cause I got the window seat before you! You’re just a sore loser.”

“Nuh-uh! We agreed that the first one who  _ sat down _ was the winner, so it’s  _ you _ who’s the sore loser!”

Hitoka sighed, her face meeting the palm of her hand for the first time that day. If they kept this up then Kiyoko-sensei was going to scold them and probably make them go into different groups so they’d behave. Not that that would stop them from arguing with each other. Distance meant nothing when you could still yell at each other over everyone else. Her sigh, however, had not gone unnoticed by the squabbling boys, unlike most everything else.

They turned to her, and suddenly the girl felt trapped.

“Hitoka-chan, you saw it, right? The person who won earlier.” Shoyo leaned in close, making Hitoka lean back far enough that she felt her lower spine pressed up against the arm of the seat, while her shoulders contended with the wall of the train itself. Further back Tobio glared at her, and though she knew it was more of an unconscious facial expression he made, it still frightened her enough that she squeaked.

“N-n-neither of you won!” she declared in a single, stuttering breath. “Because neither of you really agreed on the rules then neither of you won!”

Both of their faces dropped into frowns and they leaned away. Hitoka took a deep breath and twisted herself in her seat until she was comfortable again. ‘ _ That seemed to quiet them down, _ ’ she thought, suddenly pleased with herself. 

The feeling, unfortunately though, didn’t have the time to stay and chat. 

Suddenly Kageyama clapped his fist into his hand. He disappeared behind his seat only to return seconds later with the look of someone that had just had their lightbulb switched on. “Alright! The first one who gets to car fifteen is the winner  _ and  _ is right about the movie!”

Hitoka felt like a cartoon weight had abruptly been dropped on top of her head, and she wanted to sink to the floor in utter shock at the undeniable simplicity and  _ stupidity _ of Tobio’s proposal. “Th-that’s not how it works, Tobio-kun…,” she muttered.

No one heard her, though, as immediately after voicing his demands Kageyama launched out of his seat and made for the next car. Hinata was soon to follow, angrily blustering about how he wasn’t being fair by getting a head start. Hitoka blinked as she tried to catch up with what had just happened, and as soon as she understood she was out of her seat and in the aisle.

“You guys!” she called, although hardly loud enough to be heard, as she didn’t want to bother anyone else, and also knew that by yelling it would get Kiyoko-sensei’s attention, and the boys would surely be in trouble then. If she could just get them back before the teacher noticed they were gone…

Hitoka looked over her shoulder and froze when she saw Kiyoko-sensei also standing in the aisle, her heart frantically pounding against her ribs to a guilty tempo, even though she herself was still innocent for the time being. However, the little girl noticed that the teacher was not looking her way― rather, she seemed to be locked in a (mostly) one-sided conversation with a few men. Although Hitoka often felt bad for Kiyoko-sensei when someone stopped her to flirt, for once the girl was grateful there was distraction as powerful as this one. 

Turning back around, the child took off at a mild jog, mindful that this was a train and that running around was bothersome to others, yet also determined to catch those boys and bring them back. 

And with that goal in mind, Hitoka left the car.

**x❌x**

It was all of but two seconds of blissful silence before Oikawa ruined it with a new round of whining and pestering. 

Iwaizumi resisted the urge to sigh, as the setter would only take it as an invitation to double his efforts in annoying the ace. He wished― probably for about the  _ umpteenth _ time ―that he could be granted a just a little bit of peace and quiet on this trip, or at the very least that he hadn’t forgotten his stupid headphones. There was only so much of Oikawa’s crap that he could handle this early in the morning. Currently his patience was wearing thin and revealing that it was reaching the lowest it had ever been concerning the frivolous brunette.

“ _ Iwa-chan! _ ” The pretty setter leaned, or rather,  _ draped _ , himself  across Iwaizumi and turned his face to the ceiling to give it a pitiful moan. “Why won’t you pay attention to  _ me _ ?”

He dragged out the vowel on his last word to add extra emphasis on whom it was Hajime was supposed to be paying attention to, but to the ace it merely sounded like a fly had landed in his ear. Iwaizumi grit his teeth and fought the rising need to groan back at his friend, massaging his temple with his free hand to ease the oncoming headache known as Oikawa- _ fucking _ -Tooru. Yet he couldn’t help but deliver a scathing response, mimicking the brunette’s high pitched whine with almost terrifying ease.

“Hey Bakawa, why won’t you let me  _ sleep _ ?”

Tooru tilted his head backwards and gave his best friend a pouting glare. “Because I need attention, which is more important than letting you sleep.”

“The last time you said that you wound up stuck in the volleyball cart the next day, if I recall correctly,” Hanamaki chimed in without turning around in his seat.

“And the time before that he threatened to shave you bald, saying that it’d definitely get you attention,” Matsukawa nonchalantly added. The comment was promptly followed by the sound of a page being noisily turned.

Oikawa’s face twisted and he sat upright, a light, pinkish shine brightening his cheeks as he struggled to retaliate.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, actually quite enjoying the hole Oikawa had dug and trapped himself in. He could recall both mentioned occasions rather clearly, and thinking about them was enough to get him smirking in self-satisfaction. Eventually though he knew he was going to have to put an end to the teasing before he too wound up in the hole with Oikawa. 

Finally he released the sigh he had been holding on to. “How much attention do you need, exactly?”

The setter whirled around in his seat, the shock barely managing to flit over his face before he became utterly serious. Big, dark brown eyes opened wide to catch the light as Oikawa tilted his head, the innocent pose clearly an attempt at appealing to Iwaizumi’s nicer persona. He gripped the arm of the chair and leaned forward hopefully.

“All of it?” Though when he spoke it came out more as a tentative question, a sign that he was still aware of the fact that the wrong words could cancel any possible attention he might receive from his beloved Iwa-chan.

Iwaizumi sighed again, shaking his head as he scooted forward in his seat and stood up and into the aisle. Would he ever know a day where he wouldn’t be astounded by the things that came out of Oikawa’s mouth? Probably not, but sometimes it made for a nice fantasy.

“Wait, no! Don’t leave me Iwa-chan!” Oikawa frantically stretched across the seat and latched onto the hem of Hajime’s jacket. The ace ignored him and reached for his bag on the rack above.

Meanwhile Hanamaki and Matsukawa made themselves comfortable in taking advantage of the situation.

“Eh? Is Mom finally leaving Dad for good now?” The mischievous duo had turned in their seats again, comfortably resting their heads on folded arms as the watched their captain desperately attempt to convince Iwaizumi that he had just been kidding (even though the ace wasn’t  _ actually _ going anywhere). The monkey and sloth looked at each other with mock concern as the base of their expression, as if they were truly serious about the so-called break up. 

Matsukawa unfolded an arm and gripped his devilish companion, loudly whispering, “Then who’s going to get custody of us?”

Makki gasped before declaring, “If we get separated I call Iwaizumi!”

“What?! That’s not fair! Besides, we both know that  _ I’m _ his favorite.”

‘ _ You both give me major headaches like a certain pain in the ass, _ ’ Iwaizumi thought, partially noting how the grip on his jacket suddenly disappeared as Oikawa turned on their teammates to argue about who his favorite really was. The ace ignored the banter and unzipped his duffel bag, reaching inside to paw around blindly for the plastic bag he had buried somewhere in between his clothes. He didn’t want to resort to using these things so early, but it would shut all of them up for a good minute at least― until Oikawa could come up with something else to blabber on about anyways.

After finding the bag he grabbed four boxes, tossing three of them― one per annoying person’s face ―at his friends, quickly zipping his duffel bag up and sitting down with a grunt. 

“I’m not going anywhere, you idiots.”

The trio examined the boxes― not without a fair amount of complaining ―and immediately grew excited.

“Botan Rice? You’re the best mom ever!” Hanamaki grinned as he ripped the plastic wrapping off the red box, shoving the trash into his pocket before opening the box to get to the candy. He and Mattsun disappeared behind their seats once again, comparing the surprise stickers they’d received with the treat.

“Iwa-chan you spoil us too much.” Oikawa snickered, finally appearing to relax after all the trouble he had stirred up. Hajime said nothing. He knew that they meant no harm in their jokes, and could often find himself joining in on them. His “spoiling” was just his own way of thanking his friends for being them, as well as his own way of showing he took care of the people he valued― even if sometimes they probably didn’t deserve it. While it was true that his friends had a knack for getting on his nerves they weren’t all bad.

Iwaizumi shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching up as he unwrapped the box and opened it. At that same moment the door to their car opened and a young boy crossed the threshold with a victorious huff. For a second he bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he panted, and then just as quickly he was up again and turned around to face another child running up to him. The second boy, with a mane of shocking orange hair, pushed past an a female attendant that had been busy talking to someone in the washroom with breathless apologies. He reached the dark haired boy shortly after, scowling as he tried to catch his breath.

The first boy pumped a fist into the air, crowing, “Yes, I won!”

The orange haired kid’s face reminded Iwaizumi of the time he’d dared Oikawa to eat several sour candies at once― everything puckered, face brilliantly flushed, and a less than pleased attitude.

“Kageyama you cheated!” he growled. “That head start wasn’t fair and you know it!”

‘ _ Kageyama? _ ’ Hajime glanced at Tooru, both of their eyebrows rising in surprise. The last time either of them had heard that name had been a little over a year ago, when they’d gone over to help the family pack. The family was nice, and they had a little boy that had grown pretty attached to both him and Oikawa. Hajime had been pretty fond of the kid too, but as for Oikawa, well… His feelings were a little mixed.

Oikawa stood up and used the back of Matsukawa’s seat as a leaning post. He tilted his head to get a better look at the dark haired boy squabbling with his friend and he nodded as if to confirm that it was indeed the same kid. Iwaizumi looked at the boy again and opened his mouth to call out to him, a rather joyful grin growing on his face.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t little Tobio-chan~.” The setter beat him to it, drawling as a half smirk quirked upwards. The boys turned at his voice, the smaller of the two unconsciously shifting behind Kageyama as he suspiciously stared at Oikawa, while Kageyama himself froze in surprise. Metallic blue eyes shifted from the brunette towards Iwaizumi and his expression morphed― if Iwaizumi had to take a wild guess then Christmas had just come early.

“Tooru-nii! Hajime-nii!” Tobio ignored his friend clinging on to the back of his grey shirt and nearly sprinted the― short ―distance between them. He skidded to a halt and grinned at them.

Iwaizumi chuckled and reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “How’ve you been? You’re playing nicely with your friends, right?”

He gave a pointed look to the boy behind Kageyama and they both flinched a little. Tobio guilty looked up at the ceiling, scratching his cheek as he mumbled about how he and ‘ _ Hinata _ ’ always got along. That earned the boy a sharp jab from his friend and they glared at each other. Shorty muttered the word ‘ _ cheater _ ’ under his breath, causing Tobio to hiss ‘ _ sore loser _ ’ in return. Before they could get too deep into their glaring contest Iwaizumi cleared his throat and the two separated from each other. 

It was silent for a minute, and then it was broken by snickering; quiet at first, but it quickly circled around until everyone had a smile on their face. Hajime glanced back at the door, a new question about what the two boys were doing on a Tokyo bound train― and which car they had come from ―forming on his lips. All thoughts stopped when he noticed a little girl enter the vestibule and scurry past the attendant. The woman stopped her and said something, gesturing towards the boys and the child nodded her head before hurriedly opening the door, stepping into the car. 

Brushing blonde bangs out of her eyes, her gaze locked onto the two boys and she beelined towards them. The closer she got the more winded she appeared. The girl reached them and she latched onto Hinata’s sleeve, huffing. The small boy turned around with a gasp that startled her and Kageyama.

“ _ Sho-kun _ !” she wheezed. Speaking only made her completely breathless so she dug into her pink coat pocket and retrieved an inhaler, taking a deep breath.

The moment she had regained her breath she began to lecture the boys. “W-we’re going to get in trouble if Kiyoko-sensei notices we’re gone! Why did you have to run through  _ six whole cars _ ?! I got scolded by that attendant in there! And you left me behind!”

Oikawa tutted. “That’s not very nice of you boys to leave a lady behind.”

The little girl suddenly seemed to take notice of her surroundings, finding that there were more people in the car than just her friends. Her face paled when she caught Oikawa looking at her, and when he smiled she ducked behind Hinata. Iwaizumi snorted, earning a sharp kick to the shin in response. The girl glanced at him, and when she met his gaze a little squeak escaped her. The setter snorted and this time it was his turn to be kicked. 

“Sorry Hitoka-chan,” both boys apologized.

The girl looked away from Hajime and nodded. “Th-then let’s go back. And no more races!”

Tobio and Hinata dipped their heads― shamefully almost, as if she had told them not to go running off before they had done it, Hajime guessed. Tobio looked over his shoulder, waving goodbye.

They turned to go just as a passenger crashed out of a washroom in the vestibule, ramming right into the attendant that had been standing outside. The children stumbled backwards and Iwaizumi jumped out of his seat to make sure they didn’t fall over. Hinata and Hitoka retreated closer to Tobio― the tallest of the three ―and the young boy naturally placed his arms around them in a protective stance. Meanwhile everyone else in the car began to stand up, curious as to what was going on beyond the closed door.

For Iwaizumi everything felt delayed, creating a hollow sensation that went from his head to his feet like water that swirled down a drain after a plug had been pulled. The images came to him in pieces― the stranger’s short, matted black hair, the cream colored sleeve of the attendant’s uniform and the strain placed on her pencil skirt, the crimson stains that smeared their way onto everything. The walls became painted with ruddy handprints as the female passenger flailed around, her once clean white shirt was splotched and speckled while her rear end was soaked through. Her left leg was the worst, as it still bled.

The attendant struggled until she shoved the other woman away from her. She scrambled to her feet, wobbling dangerously as she nearly careened into a wall before latching onto the door and slipping through as it slid open. Just as she turned around to shut it the passenger sprang to her feet and tackled the attendant back to the ground without remorse. Iwaizumi only just barely caught sight of the black veins streaking across the woman’s chalk colored skin and something more than lipstick stains around her mouth before she dived at the attendant’s exposed throat. 

Her scream died with the sickening squelch of flesh being torn away from the body.

No one moved. No one said anything, not even a breath could be heard as the rabid passenger snarled into the attendant’s throat. Iwaizumi  _ knew _ , on some deep, unaffected subconscious level that he needed to do something― that he needed to help that poor attendant even though he also knew somewhere else that she couldn’t be helped. But he  _ couldn’t _ . His body was rooted to that spot in the middle of the aisle, gaze riveted to the mortifying scene unfolding itself right before his very eyes. 

It was only when something bumped into him that his senses found themselves knocked into place. Iwaizumi looked down and witnessed three children wrapped tightly in a never before known grip of fear. Tobio took it upon himself to shield his friends eyes while his own couldn’t be torn away from what lay before him no matter how hard he tried. The ace’s eyes flickered upwards again and they widened in horror. Without so much as a second though he grabbed the group of children as a whole and shoved them out of the aisle, into his seat with Oikawa jumping as far back as he possibly could to make room for all three of them. 

The woman had stopped her attack, jerking upright with her mouth open wide enough that it appeared unhinged, completely marred with the blood and sinewy bits and pieces of neck muscle clinging to her lips, dripping from her chin. Milky veiled eyes saw nothing.

Until someone moved.

She jerked upright from her position on top of the attendant, throwing herself at the poor boy. He screamed, a rough yet high pitched sound that only seemed to increase the intensity of the rabid passenger’s attack. He fell backwards and onto his seatmate, who desperately hit the woman until she turned on him next. 

Fire burned in Hajime’s limbs and before he knew it then he was gripping a fistful of the woman’s shirt and pulling her off his teammates. She turned on him with a snarl that sent a string of red saliva pouring out of her mouth. He held no reserves over slamming his fist into her face, knocking the woman hard enough that she twisted around and collapsed on the floor. His knuckles stung from the impact, but the pain hardly took priority in his mind as time kept moving forward. Suddenly the little girl screamed.

Hajime made the mistake of looking at her.

The world tilted around him until the side of his head made contact with the floor and set off an array of blinding fireworks. He twisted around blindly, clumsily as he realized there was a foreign weight pressing down on him, scrabbling against him, with something warm and wet dripping all over him. Hajime blinked rapidly while trying to push whoever―  _ whatever _ ―was on him the hell off. He threw another punch and connected with a slim jawline that sent the creature sprawling off to the side. Sitting up he tried to wipe his face off, but suddenly there were many hands on him, big and small, trying to pull him up off the ground.

“Don’t just sit there daydreaming Iwa-chan!” he heard Oikawa yell. “Get your ass in gear and  _ run _ !”

He blinked, hard, and when he opened his eyes again he saw Matsukawa urgently shoving the children towards the door while Hanamaki fended off a teammate that had turned feral. Oikawa tugged his arm and he stumbled forward a couple of steps. 

“What about the others?” he yelled back, now fighting to be heard over the rising chaos. Looking around, though, he couldn’t tell the difference between who was alive and who wasn’t. Each set of flailing limbs, every hoarse cry― it was all too similar to distinguish anything. And yet it felt  _ wrong _ to just run away without trying to help the people he had come to call his friends.

Iwaizumi looked back at Oikawa and saw his own conflict he felt mirrored on the brunette’s face. 

But they both knew that there was nothing they could do without offering themselves up to turn wild too. 

Hanamaki shoved their teammate back and looked over his shoulder at them. “What the hell are you two waiting for?!  _ Come on! _ ”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi quickly fell into step behind their friend and ran past the door and through the vestibule until they reached the next car. They ignored the concerned stares of the other passengers, which had all left their seats and gathered near the door to catch a glimpse of what was happening in the next car over. 

But the boys had not been the only ones to run out of car fifteen.

As Iwaizumi turned around, backtracking to hurry and shut the door, praying to God that these  _ things _ didn’t know how to operate a push-lever door, his heart leapt to his throat. Just as the automatic part of the door was nearing the close the rabid passenger that had instigated the start of the riot barreled through the vestibule, outstretched arm passing through the open space between door and wall and triggering the sensor, forcing the sliding door to move back.

Iwaizumi backpedaled, pushing his way through the crowd while yelling at everyone to run. 

Behind him the rabid woman snarled and lunged for another attack, and the screaming began again.


	3. What Must Stain Our Hands

_ Rock-a-bye baby _

_ on the treetop _

_ when the wind blows _

_ the cradle will rock _

_ when the bow breaks _

_ the cradle will fall _

_ and down will come baby _

_ cradle and all. _

**x❌x**

“You have  _ got  _ to be kidding me.” Ennoshita stared down Ashworth’s actual private secretary, his upper lip curling in displeasure. The papers in his hand shifted and crinkled as his grip tightened around them.

“I’m really sorry, but he decided to leave last minute and I haven’t been able to notify everyone…,” The woman pursed her lips apologetically before glancing down at her shoes. Chikara shifted his glare towards the large stained oak doors behind her, wishing, and not for the first time, that his boss wasn’t such an inconsiderate ass.

With a sharp shake of his head the young man spun around, the soles of his shoes squeaking on the recently waxed floor. Huffing, he said, “I’ll just fax these to the Tokyo branch then and let Yaku-san deal with it.”

The secretary said nothing as he walked away. The hallway filled with the quick and angry rapping of his shoes― shoes that were just barely too tight at the toes, pinching and chafing away right at the edge, even through the socks. Shoes that were too expensive, too professional for a simple intern like himself. Shoes that belonged on some important business man’s feet, doing their own damn business work instead of making others run around fixing everything until the crack of dawn. Or worse yet they were the kind of shoes that belonged on an old man’s feet. 

Ennoshita stopped, placing his free hand over his eyes. Was he really getting upset over a pair of shoes? Ones that he owned no less? The hand pressed harder into his face and slowly he let it slide down, pulling at his cheeks, folding his nose until he couldn’t breathe, curling his lower lip multiple times― all until he felt completely sagged out, exhaustion sapping the strength right out of him to his bones. It was far too early to be dealing with his boss’s random and poorly timed decisions. Or perhaps it was far too late, as he had never even gotten the chance to go home and rest, having stayed all night to document and file the reports from the different branches so that they were ready to be presented just so they could be ignored― because that was how Ashworth wanted it. And how Ashworth wanted things was exactly the way he got them.

He continued walking. 

‘ _ And on top of everything else, _ ’ he thought, rather a bit sullenly, ‘ _ I still can’t go home because I have to cover Suga’s shift today. _ ’

Oh if only he could take back the very moment he had considered and submitted an application to this company. Had he known how demanding this job was going to turn out to be then he definitely would have been sent backpedaling, never setting foot anywhere  _ near _ Ashworth’s Bio Division. Now he was completely trapped by the fact that his job was what paid the bills and bought him food― more than what he could say about his other options, both of the then and now. Fast food and retail was both cheap and a nightmare filled with unpleasant characters, and other business firms required that he had so many years experience prior to getting the experience he was in need of. It was utterly ridiculous, which was another thing that prevented him from searching for a different field of work.

There was also the fact that if he hadn’t taken or gotten this internship then Sugawara would be the one filling up his role as the official busy body. That would leave the poor guy with barely an opportunity to see his kid sister grow up. The only thing that had even allowed the man to even go on a fieldtrip with her was sheer dumb luck and Ennoshita’s own generosity.

A horrifying thought dawned on him and he automatically sped up, now bombarded with more priorities than just faxing papers. Ennoshita turned down a hallway where at the very end was the faculty room, his feet already moving along the memorized path while he shoved the files into his armpit and began digging around in his pockets for his cellphone. With Ashworth on the move for an impromptu business trip and Sugawara out with his sister, both with the same city as their destination, the likelihood of the two running into each other was unfortunately high just the same as it would be unlikely. With what the secretary had told him then Ashworth had just enough time to catch the seven o’clock train to Tokyo.

He snagged the phone, flipping it open the moment it was out of his pocket, pressing speed dial for his co-worker’s number. Each ring seemed to drag out, causing him to glance anxiously every now and then at an old watch on his wrist. Before him the door to the faculty room drew closer. It was on the third ring when Sugawara finally picked up.

Ennoshita sighed in relief, but before he could say anything Sugawara spoke. “ _ Ennoshita? Did something happen? Please don’t tell me they need me to come in anyways― the train  _ just _ departed _ .” 

A desperate edge filtered the man’s voice. It caused the static of the line to pitch slightly and Ennoshita had to tilt his head away from the receiver. He couldn’t help but sympathize with his co-worker though, he always died a little on the inside when they called him in on his days off too. This job was like a special pocket of hell on earth, it seemed.

Chikara shook his head even though Suga couldn’t see him. “No it’s not that, sorry for surprising you like this. It’s just―”

He reached the faculty room and switched the grip on his phone from his hand to his shoulder, practically shoving the door open the moment his hand made contact with the handle. He walked inside, letting the door swing shut behind him, and gave a polite nod to the security guard that was taking advantage of his limited break time.

“It’s just that I found out that Ashworth has decided to pay the Tokyo branch a random visit.” Ennoshita clicked his tongue in distaste, hurrying over to the faxing machine that had only been recently installed due to various complaints. “And I’ve got a bad feeling that the two of you are on the same train.”

Kōshi uttered a long stream of curses and Ennoshita could only imagine him running a hand through his hair, a light scowl bearing down on his features.

“ _ And knowing him then the moment of if and when he sees me he’ll make me drop what I’m doing so I can do whatever he wants me to do. _ ” The young man calmed down with an exasperated sigh and Chikara grunted in agreement. “ _ And why did he have to come to Tokyo today? Have things really gotten that bad?” _

He glared at the paperwork that was currently being scanned. “From the way he acts I can’t even tell if he actually cares or not. He just does whatever to try and seem bigger than that brother of his from the States.”

“And that’s why we call him Assworth behind his back.” Ennoshita glanced over his shoulder at the security guard, who tipped his hat over his face to shield his eyes from the light as he laid back on the too small couch. He caught the grin spreading across the man’s face and he shook his head, chuckling.

“Assworth indeed,” he murmured, sliding another paper into the machine. Shaking his head, Ennoshita dropped the thought in favor of finishing his task and wrapping up the conversation with Sugawara. “If he really is on the same train then I suggest you back away and act like you’ve never seen him in your life.”

The man sighed. “ _ Right. Thanks again Ennoshita, looks like I owe you another one. _ ”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s your day off, spend it with your sister like you’re supposed to, not how Ashworth thinks you should.”

“ _ Yeah… Speaking of which, I should probably get back to her. Hitoka-chan gave me a funny look when I got your call.” _

The two chuckled before the nuisance known as reality settled in and sobered them up. Chikara cleared his throat. “Right, I’ll let you go then and―”

Static from the security guard’s walkie talkie flared in the small room, startling the dozing man up from his attempted nap.

“ _ Narita someone just attacked the receptionist! I need the first aid― Holy shit!” _

Looking over his shoulder, Chikara watched as the guard leapt from the small couch and rushed towards the far wall for the staff’s first aid kit. He snatched it off the wall, simultaneously drawing out an extendable baton from his belt before responding that he was on his way. And then he was gone.

He hastily returned to the faxing machine and shoved the last paper inside before turning to follow after the guard. “Something happened. I’m gonna have to call you back― if I need anything that is. Have fun in Tokyo, Suga.”

Not even a second later he hung up without giving Kōshi a chance to demand an explanation. He ran down the hall, the sound of his hurried footsteps reflecting the rising tempo of his heart beat. Was it an attack on the building? Someone that held a grudge against Ashworth Bio Division, or Ashworth personally? Was someone still attacking? What if there were more people? Should he really be running towards potential danger?

He skid around a corner and entered the main lobby, panting, and the questions only began to multiply into a confusing mass in his mind. He spied Narita on the other side of the receptionist’s counter tending to a sobbing woman dressed in a soft grey suit. His patient voice was barely heard through the deranged snarling that echoed around the cavernous room. Moving a step to the right Ennoshita saw the other guard, Kinoshita, struggling to pin a man that appeared to be wearing a white lab coat to the floor.

“―just ran right up to her and started attacking like a wild animal. When I tried to get him off her he turned on me!” Kinoshita  grunted as he explained what had happened. The man he held down let loose another loud snarl, wriggling around with a surprising amount of vigor and strength. Even Kinoshita was having troubles getting him to stay down. 

Narita swore. “Ma’am I’m gonna need you to hold the wrap right here for me.” He peered over desk as best as he could and addressed Kinoshita. “It looks like a rabid dog attack― these incisor marks are  _ deep _ . We’re gonna have to call the cops and an ambulance.”

“I can do that,” Ennoshita offered, raising the phone in his hand. Both guards looked back at him, surprised that he was even there, before shaking their heads and moving forward like they were trained to. Just as Kinoshita opened his mouth to give specific instructions the man pinned beneath him bucked wildly with a powerful upward surge and the guard was sent tumbling backwards. Turning, the stranger made a split second amount of eye contact with Kinoshita and pounced. The guard yelped and held up his arms in a defensive cross and seconds later the intruder’s teeth were tearing into exposed skin.

Ennoshita stared with wide, horrified eyes, the cellphone forgotten and Kinoshita’s scream muted to the point of soundlessness in his mind. Narita jumped up and vaulted over the once pristine desk and grabbed a fistful of the man’s coat. The rabid man jerked upright and for the first time he got a good look at the aggressor.

It was one of the researchers from the labs below, his ID glinting in the light revealing the company’s sophisticated logo of a red DNA strand. As if sensing his stare the rabid man stopped in his frenzy and jerked his entire body in his direction, meeting his own terrified gaze with dead, ivory colored eyes. Fresh blood dripped from his teeth and poured over fat lips, falling over his chin to add to the other stains on his rumpled shirt. Crooked fingers swiped and clawed at empty air as if in anticipation of tearing him to shreds.

Chikara took a step back. His attention was diverted with a flicker of movement coming from behind the receptionist’s desk. The woman’s head had lolled back and her body convulsed like a shock of electricity had been sent running through her every few seconds. A drowning gurgle escaped her before she stilled. He held his breath, a heavy feeling expanding in his chest and swirling like heavy fog in his mind, as he watched her rise slowly, reaching towards the desk and using it to haul herself up on unsteady feet. Her head turned towards Narita, who struggled to keep the scientist at bay.

“Watch―,” the word barely pushed past his lips in a hoarse, dry whisper, but he could never finish his sentence. The woman clumsily scrambled over the desk and dived at Narita with a snarl. Narita swung his baton in a wide arc, the blunt device connecting with the woman’s temple and knocking her to the side. In exchange for defending himself, however, he lost his grip on the scientist, and before either of them could fully comprehend what was happening the older man was charging forward with reckless abandon.

Ennoshita turned on his heel and  _ ran _ .

**x❌x**

Kōshi gave his phone a long look before shaking his head and tucking it in his pocket. It was going to be hard to focus on the day ahead now, what with a phrase such as ‘ _ something happened’ _ being one of the last things Ennoshita told him before hastily adding his goodbyes and ending the call. First the possibility of Ashworth being on the same train as him and now chaos was ensuing at work? What else was going to go wrong?

The young man exited the small designated restroom, absently straightening his coat while shutting the door behind him. He quickly slipped from vestibule to train car and headed for his seat. He took note of the two empty seats in front of his, putting two and two together with the muffled sounds of running and arguing that he’d heard while in the restroom. What came as a surprise to him, however, was that Hitoka’s seat was empty as well.

He stared at the cushioned chair for a long time before glancing one way and then the other. On one end, the direction he had just recently come from, there was no sign of the children. If they had gone that way then clearly they had gone more than just a car or two. In the other direction was Kiyoko-sensei entertaining a few gentlemen by listening to them. Judging by the way she was standing then it was apparent that she didn’t know that a few of her students had gone missing yet, as there was no worry or need for hurry in her lithe form. 

Kōshi walked towards her as quick as he dared lightly tapping her shoulder the moment she was within reaching distance. Instantly he felt two sets of incredibly heated gazes fall upon him. He tried his best to ignore them, preferring to focus on the refreshing feeling the young woman’s eyes always seemed to conjure whenever they were on him, but he couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the other men. The first thought that popped into his mind, or at least an image of similar quality, were two mischievous imps that were dangerously protective of the things they liked ― jealously so as well. The third man, upon first impression, was large and imposing, someone easily angered and more than likely willing to beat you up for even looking at him wrong. But at a second glance that really wasn’t the case. Certainly he was big, but beyond that it looked like he wanted nothing to do with confrontation, let alone with whatever the heck his friends were doing.

Returning his attention to the young woman, he said, “Hitoka-chan and her friends disappeared.”

Kiyoko’s eyes widened a fraction before narrowing. Silently she slipped around him and headed for the front of the car where she had last seen them. She shook her head in disappointment, a little frown pulling at the corners of her mouth as her eyes ran over the empty seats. She had put extra emphasis on not leaving the car for anything more than going to the bathroom before they had all boarded the train, especially when addressing Hinata and Kageyama, but it seemed that it was all for naught with it came to those two. With Hitoka, however… Well, that girl was always getting dragged into their mess. More than likely she had gone with the boys to try and bring them back before they could get into trouble.

Just as Kōshi made a move to follow after the teacher one of the imp like characters shifted his attitude and suddenly the heat was no longer aimed at him. “Hey, is there anything we can do to help?”

He looked over his shoulder and gave a little smile to the young man with a random streak of blonde in his hair― the one that had spoken ―and kindly rejected the offer. “Thanks, but I don’t think this will take long. It’s not like they can go very far on a train after all.”

“Oh, right…,” The guy trailed off and for a split second Kōshi thought he was in the clear to leave. That was, until another question was asked. “Are you the Goddess’s boyfriend?”

Warmth spread across his face and down his neck within record breaking time. His eyes flickered between Kiyoko, who was already waiting for him by the door, and the man that stared at him with almost silent accusation. Kōshi took another step away from them before somewhat guiltily admitting, “I wish.” with a voice barely above a whisper. And then he was hurrying towards the teacher, the two disappearing into the vestibule and the next car without another word.

**x❌x**

Hitoka clung to the back of Hinata’s shirt as he ran forward, Kageyama following right behind her with his hand between her shoulder blades, urging her to go even faster. She was panting harder with each elongated step she took and her heart thumped erratically within her chest, tempting her weak lungs to shut down from the sheer overload of work they were expected to perform. Even though she had used her inhaler barely five minutes ago it felt as if she had gone without it for weeks. If it had not been obvious to anyone before then it most definitely was now: Sugawara Hitoka was not capable of handling any kind of extreme work out, least of all doing so in order to preserve her life.

“I― I―,” the young girl struggled to say something,  _ anything _ . It hurt to breathe. It hurt not to breathe. She felt lighter than air, the train car was spinning, and yet her feet were the heaviest thing on earth and getting heavier by the second. Hinata was moving too fast and Kageyama was pushing on her too hard. Hitoka’s mind reeled as it struggled to catch up with every little detail that had happened, that was  _ still _ happening. 

_ Blood.  _ There had been so much  _ blood _ . Having practically spent half of her already short life in a hospital then Hitoka had come to learn a great deal of things about blood. For instance, the average weight for children her age (which she barely even came close to reaching) was eighty pounds. Eighty pounds equaled about roughly two thousand six hundred fifty milliliters. That was about the amount of water a small fish tank could hold. The people that had been attacked in car fifteen were all of adult stature, and the average adult body contained, at most, five thousand and seven hundred milliliters of blood. That much blood was enough to fill a large jug, and combine every single person that had been attacked in that cabin…

The deepest maroon splattered across the walls every time the little girl blinked and she balked. 

The group passed through another vestibule, bringing them even closer to their own train car, but the screams still rang in her ears as if she were right next to them. Gasping, Hitoka couldn’t help but recall the moments just before the descent into madness began; the attendant, though stern in her lecture, did not deserve to die as she had. She didn’t deserve to die at all.

_ Suddenly the woman stopped attacking the attendant, rigidly shooting upright with a slack jaw. Hitoka had seen makeup disasters before, with rogue lipstick smeared high until they crested the cheek bones or dipped below the chin, and mascara running freely in every direction so long as it came down― but there was no competition when it came to the mess that had become of this stranger’s face. Among the strings of neck muscle dangling from her lips, between the stained saliva, hung veins like limp cords. Blood covered the entirety of her lower face even clinging to her hair. Instead of mascara tracks of coal raced beneath deathly pale skin, and opaque eyes stared at nothing. Yet to the trembling child it felt like the creature was looking at her, and only her. _

There came a forceful shove from behind― one that didn’t come from Tobio on purpose ―and Hitoka’s ankles knocked into each other, and she tripped sideways into a booth. A deep, disgusted cry mingled with the girl’s sharp squeal as she lost her balance and hit the man’s knees at an awkward angle before collapsing painfully on his pointy shoes. A pained yelp followed immediately after as Hinata crashed into the corner of the next chair, as Hitoka still had a grip on his shirt when she went down.  

“What in God’s green earth do you think you’re  _ doing _ ?” the man she had fallen on bellowed. Hitoka gasped desperately as she simultaneously struggled to apologize and pick herself up off the man. She froze, though, the moment she saw him. Sharp, angular face with bleached blonde hair cropped and styled into the latest trend, and razor steel eyes which glared at her through glasses that rested upon a long and thin nose. Of all the people she had to fall on, of all the times to fall on him, it had to have been her big brother’s boss, Jared Ashworth.

“Mr.― Mr.― Mr. Ashworth,” she stuttered too quietly for him to hear.

“Who are your parents and where are they? I want to have a word with them about the reckless conduct―,” His demands were abruptly cut short with a scream, followed by more and more, and then people scrambling from their seats or off the ground towards the next car. Hitoka glimpsed, for a split second, a man struggling to get through with a limp weighing him down, and a dark feeling descended upon her just before Ashworth shoved her out of the way to see for himself what was happening. She hit the wall with a severe  _ crack! _ and for the next few seconds all she could see were fireworks― bright, bright fireworks.

In those few seconds many things occurred. Upon seeing what appeared to be creatures from Hell in human skin and covered in blood Ashworth did the sensible thing and  _ ran _ . He shoved passed others with the same idea, even knocking the boy with shocking orange hair back down again just after he had managed to pick himself up. Before Hinata even bothered trying to pick himself up again a large hand― one that belonged to one of the older boys that Kageyama knew, the guy with fancy hair ―grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the next car. Tobio himself had rolled into booth next to the one Hitoka had fallen into knowing full well that if he tried to get out now then he’d be trampled to death; he waited for the opportunity to run, knowing that he also could not stay where he was. 

Hitoka opened her eyes with a groan, an unshakeable ringing resonating in her ears at the same tempo in which her heart pounded against her chest. She lifted her head at the same moment a man crashed into the chair and then into her booth, falling right on top of her legs. They both squirmed frantically to get away from each other just as a snarl drew their attention. Each and every fiber in her being locked into place, unyielding to her silent, pleading commands as she locked eye for dead eye with the thing that had once been an attendant. 

The man, who had an easier time at regaining control of his limbs, began to wriggle with renewed intensity. Clouded glazed eyes riveted upon him as a wet growl escaped from both an open mouth and the hole in her throat. 

Hitoka’s screams were the loudest thing to be heard when the creature lunged.

**x❌x**

“They’re not hiding in these ones either.” Kōshi closed the bathroom door with a frustrated huff. They had already gone three cars away from their own in search of the missing children, but they still had yet to see any of them. The young man lowered his head with a shake and wondered just how far those kids had planned to go. Hopefully the intended destination hadn’t been the back of the train.

Kiyoko sighed, clutching her clipboard a little tighter to her chest. Though Tobio and Shoyo often ran off on their own (usually dragging Hitoka with them) she had never actually lost them before. To say that losing them now, on this field trip that took them far away from home, made her anxious was a bit of an understatement. Part of her tried to reason that even if they did make it as far as the end of the train that would indeed be as far as they went, and that eventually they would be found, but another part of her was beginning to grow alarmingly overwhelmed by the sense that something was absolutely wrong with this whole situation.

The young woman glanced at the next compartment in an attempt to peer at the next vestibule from a distance only to find her view blocked by other passengers standing from their seats. Something appeared to be going on in the car beyond this one. She reached out and opened the door just in time to hear a muffled scream followed by a wave of horrified gasps. Glancing over her shoulder she shared a concerned glance with Sugawara before turning to take a step into compartment ten. 

The door to the next vestibule opened at that same moment and the sounds of panic and flight flowed more clearly than ever before. People began pushing their way through the crowd of onlookers; some refused to look back, others could not stop looking over their shoulders, few shouted above the rest to run. Kiyoko quickly sidestepped into an open booth to avoid being ran into, separated from Sugawara as he did the same. One shout rose louder than the rest which drew their attention.

“Out of my way! Move!” An older man, possibly in his mid thirties, nearing his forties, shoved past the scrambling crowd with an untamed frenzy. His glasses were slightly askew and what must have once been a neat hairstyle was rapidly coming apart. He roughly pushed past an elderly woman, sending her stumbling into a distracted Sugawara. The grey haired young man steadied her whilst staring after the other man with his mouth slightly ajar. 

Before Kiyoko had even a fraction of a moment to process what was happening a little blur of orange caught her eye.

She turned her head to see Shoyo struggling against a young man who was steadily dragging him away from the car they had just left behind. The teacher strained to look behind the boy in hopes to see the other two not far behind him, but instead was only met with more, unfamiliar, panicking faces.  _ If Shoyo was there, where was Hitoka and Tobio? _

“We’ve gotta go back! Lemme go!” Shoyo practically snarled, attempting to stomp on the older boy’s foot. The brunette looked back the way they had came but could see nothing through the sea of writhing fear. He glanced at the small boy before jerking him forward and wrapping a thick arm around his torso and picking him up. Even though Oikawa found his heart aligned with the kid’s, for his friends were still in there as well, he  _ had _ to get this boy out of harm’s way. The most either of them could do was trust in and pray that Iwaizumi could get everyone out in time. 

“Hajime will bring them, but right now  _ we _ have to move!” He turned away from compartment eleven, ducking past a dark haired young woman and a young man trying to push through the oncoming crowd, missing as one of them called out the boy’s name.

Kōshi’s efforts to reach his little sister tripled in desperation. People were still coming through and not one of them was Hitoka; for all he knew she was still many, many cars back, all the while something dangerous lay just ahead. He clung to the edges of the seats as best as he could while wading forward. No one paid him a second glance as he struggled to go into the unknown Hell they were trying to escape. 

And then a scream pierced the air sharp and terrifyingly clear; he knew it best as a child’s cry the moment a nightmare consumed her. The world stopped its revolution in that young man’s mind, the only thing he was able focus on being that frightened sound. It was as if it were the only thing he knew. And with it he used to guide himself through the horde, disregarding the other passengers as he fought his way through to save his little sister.

**x❌x**

Hitoka frantically tried to kick the man off of her as the demon attendant descended upon them, but her weak little legs were no match against the weight of two adults. She screamed again, a high pitched wail of fright and pain alike as her legs were crushed between a body and the hard floor of the train car. Her scream died in her throat as she reeled in breathlessness, the strength of shock growing at an alarming rate within her fragile body. Her eyes registered the glistening red, her ears picked up the throaty screams and squelching gnashing of teeth, heady copper filled her nose― but none of it made sense to the mind that was ready to shut down.

“ _ Agh! _ ”

She looked up, a small part of her finding the time to wonder when her head had dipped down, and saw Tobio. The boy began pounding on the attendant’s back, clawing at the bloodstained clothes in a mad attempt to pull someone twice his size off of her and the man. His stone blue eyes were burning fiercely as he poured every ounce of his fury into his actions, each hit from his small hands seeming to double in strength in Hitoka’s distorted gaze. 

Tobio swung hard and snagged his fingers in the rat’s nest that had become of the woman’s bun, yanking her back hard enough that she flung blood everywhere with an inhuman sound. She turned on the boy, who had freed his hand with another sharp tug, and leaped onto him. The two disappeared from Hitoka’s sight.

“ _ Tobio! _ ” the little girl cried, wriggling against the dead weight the man had become on top of her legs while fighting against her own body’s desires to grow numb and drift into a sleep she wouldn’t wake up from for a long time. “ _ Tobio! _ ”

A yelp responded to her calls at the same time the voice of one of those big kids filled the car with commands that seemed to blur together in her ears. She faintly caught sight of more people running by, but what ultimately held her attention was the thrashing that had begun to occur right before her. The man that had been practically mauled to death, had stilled nearly seconds after the attendant had been pulled off of him, was now moving as if he were now having a seizure. But instead of foam spewing from his mouth he spurted blood, and his thrashing was quickly becoming coordinated to the point that Hitoka realized―  _ too late _ ―that he was actually trying to roll over. 

Once again Hitoka found herself level with the gaze of dead eyes.

She could have sworn that her heart stopped just then― an act of mercy it felt like ―and she nearly passed out in order to follow after it. But just as quickly her heart began pounding again and she watched in utter shock as the creature was pulled away from her. Brown eyes followed the man and watched as he was tossed into another booth. And then, traveling further, they met with wide, familiar hazel eyes.

Hitoka barely had the energy to cry as her brother rushed forward and pulled her into his arms.

As Sugawara retrieved his little sister Kiyoko swiftly pushed her way through, taking Tobio from a light haired young man that had pulled him out from another booth. The little boy grimaced with each little jostle, tucking his right hand beneath his arm, all the while casting wild eyes in every direction of the cabin. He made eye contact with Hitoka as she was tucked into a tight embrace. Staring into his friend’s frightened eyes and watching the tears build along the rims reminded him of a dam waiting for the breaking point; automatically he swallowed down his pain, his fear, just enough to fake strength, and reached for her hand. 

‘ _ I won’t let go, _ ’ he wanted to say, to promise, but the words were rocks in his throat. Something told him that wasn’t a promise he could make. Still, the weight of their hands together was a comfort, even as a small one.

“ _ Move! _ ” Iwaizumi’s hiss broke through the momentary daze and with a lurch Tobio was forced to let go of Hitoka.

At that same moment the ace pushed Matsukawa away from the door they had desperately been trying to close, nearly avoiding the outstretched hands of the rabid monsters which piled in the vestibule beyond. He ran as fast as the group ahead of him would allow for while wishing he had a better lead. If he could have enough time to shut the door before those  _ things _ caught up… _!  _

A yelp came from the front of the line and Hajime’s attention was instantly fixated on what lay dead ahead.

Kōshi almost stopped moving altogether upon seeing the chaos that was transpiring in the next car over, but having barely had time to glimpse what came from behind, and seen what had tried to attack his little sister, he knew stopping was the absolute last thing he should do. He pressed his little sister closer, the wheezes of her breath hot on his back and the trembling of her small body ricocheting through his own, and continued running. He ignored the woman shrieking as something tore into her and the other people trapped where they were by the demons. He refused to look anywhere but forward. 

Up ahead a man that had been keeled over a seat, convulsing, fell into the aisle. The young man held his breath as his eyes flickered over the maroon stains that seeped freely from a gash in the stranger’s neck; he found it difficult to tear his eyes away; he knew the color of blood, had seen it so often throughout his life, and yet, it felt as if this were the first time he was looking at it. Nausea swept through him in one horrified fell swoop as he forced himself to jump over the dying man.

He kept running from what remained behind him, but the color stayed with him no matter how far he went, and it stained.

Tobio made a move to follow after Sugawara. He didn’t want to be too far from Hitoka― she was scared and he needed to be by her to protect her ―but he also didn’t want to be left behind. Not with these monsters that used to be people. Not with the pain that swirled in his body like a poison. Not in this fog that was slowly starting to catch up to him. 

Suddenly slender hands gripped his shoulders―  _ too tight  _ ―and he flailed around as Kiyoko-sensei haphazardly dragged him into an open booth. A mere second later the man that had been prone on the floor charged past in a flurry. Tobio stared in mute horror, mind reeling as he tried to figure out how long he had been distracted to miss seeing the man get up.

Hajime-nii, stepping more to the side than into a booth, flung his arm out in time for it to catch the man under his jaw and send him sprawling. He turned to his friends and made a move to shove them forward. Receiving the memo, they ran with the ace hot on their heels. 

“Tobio, go!” Kiyoko-sensei ordered. They both stumbled from the booth as she shepherded them out. The fog creeped in a little closer and the world tilted from side to side in such a subtle manner that Tobio began to feel more than woozy. He crashed into the door while reaching for it and the weight of his teacher’s hands disappeared from his shoulders.

Something hit the ground with a loud thud― he could’ve sworn it was heavy enough to be felt ―and he craned his neck― it hurt so much now ―around to see what happened. His eyes only seemed dimly to process things and it only grew worse as the fog kept drawing closer; Kiyoko-sensei was on the ground, a ruddy hand grasped around her ankle, and a gaping maw ready to clamp its way around her toned leg. Tobio wanted to move and defend her but his body would not yield to him anymore.

Kiyoko-sensei yanked her leg back just as the man bit down. Too slow, he caught her ankle, gnashing as hard as if he were trying to bite straight through her. She bit back a scream, but tears sprang from her cobalt eyes without much prompting and they ran down her face, plastering strands of hair to her cheeks. With a twist she managed to slide her other leg around and rammed her foot into the man’s face. Her heel became embedded and she lost it, shoving the man away completely. The teacher spared a second’s worth of a glance at her ankle, thoughts in her mind racing, connecting, disconnecting, blanking, before she turned towards her student. 

The young woman struggled to rise to her feet―  _ so many were coming from behind _ ,  _ they were going to get her _ ,  _ they were going to get him  _ ―and she ushered Tobio to move into the vestibule. The door to the bathroom was open. Grabbing his arm, Kiyoko-sensei dragged him inside. Her tears glinted in the off lighting and she said something he couldn’t understand. The door shut, but did not click, and slowly the boy slumped onto the ground.

Tobio had never seen Kiyoko-sensei look so hopeless before. 

The fog began to wash over him.

**x❌x**

Sugawara practically slid into the vestibule that connected car seven to car six, the latter beyond nearly full to the brim with frightened people. A few women shrieked in fearful surprise beyond the other door at his arrival but he didn’t bother with them. He whirled around and reached for the door, but he did not shut it. Just entering seven was the three high schoolers and not much further behind them a mob of what he was starting to firmly believe were the undead. His heart quivered as he connected the three boys and the mass of creatures together, reaching a grim point in confirming the absences of both Kiyoko and Tobio.

“Hurry!” He kept his foot in the door, yelling at the boys. As the first one neared the door he stepped aside, feeling the breeze as they came in one right after the other, and as soon as the last one cleared the threshold the door was slammed shut. Seconds later a woman rammed into the plexiglass, followed by another person, and another, until there was a vicious crowd clamouring against the otherside. Various bodily fluids smeared across the glass blurring the view on both sides, but still the things continued to remain fixated on those that were on the other side, clawing as if they could possibly break through. 

For what felt like an incredibly long time the young man held onto the door, frozen. He stared long and hard with wide eyes at the demented beings on the other side until he thought all he could see was red. It was only when he realized that these creatures never bothered to reach for the handle did he, rather reluctantly, release his grip and back away.

Heavy breathing filled the vestibule. Kōshi sagged against a wall, clutching his little sister tightly to his pounding chest. A quiet sob cracked through the air and Hitoka heaved harshly. Slowly he loosened his hold on the girl and allow her to slide back to the ground. She quickly pulled out her inhaler from her coat pocket and medicated herself. Immediately after she attached herself to his side, sniffling with tears pouring silently down her round face. Everyone quickly removed themselves from the vestibule and behind the safety of another door in compartment six the moment they regained their breath.

No one dared to say a thing in that cramped cabin. No one knew  _ what _ to say. 

One young boy, having anxiously kept himself as close to the front as he possibly could, saw the little girl clinging to her brother’s side and immediately set about breaking free of his newfound and temporary guardian’s grasp. He pushed his way through several people until he reached her, and once he did Shoyo grabbed Hitoka’s hand. His eyes flitted from side to side in search of someone else, but when he did not see the one he was looking for his eyes grew wide with panic.

“Where’s Kageyama?” he demanded.

His question elicited instantaneous reactions from not only Hitoka, but from Iwaizumi as well. They both looked beyond the doors of the vestibule where the only thing visible was countless nightmares still trying to break through. Hitoka choked on a hiccup and Iwaizumi quickly looked away with guilt rimming his eyes. 

Their shared moment of realization was overshadowed by a raised voice demanding answers to other kinds of questions.

“What the hell is going on here? What are those― those  _ things _ ?”

They all turned to look at a blonde, disheveled businessman as he shoved his way through the crowd, shoving a furious finger in the direction of the horde. The Sugawara siblings and anyone else that possibly recognized the man balked. Ashworth glared at the crowd with steely eyes that promised to find someone to place the blame on― as if the current situation could possibly be anyone’s fault. The fear behind his anger was more terrifying now that the danger was temporarily contained. 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“ _ Kei! _ ”

A relatively tall boy came forward from the crowd, his friend close behind and brother stuck in place hissing at both of them to come back. Tsukishima Kei came to stop just in front of Hinata and Hitoka, an impassive expression hiding whatever he was thinking from them. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose while casting a furtive glance at the relentless things beyond the doors before turning on the temperamental businessman. 

“They’re zombies. Haven’t you ever watched a horror movie before?”

Ashworth’s face bloomed in a brilliant shade of violet and his hand jerked towards the insolent child. He quickly stopped himself instead settling for fixing his tie and then straightening his suit. Finally he ran a hand through his hair, completing the composed look he strived to always possess. Ashworth opened his mouth to speak again when a crackle sounded in the air above them, and the voice of an aged man sounded through the line.

“ _ Due to circumstances we will not be making a stop at Tokogami Station. We will correct this with a rerouting at Mihoko Station. Until then, please remain seated, and my sincerest apologies. _ ”

A murmur rippled through the crowd and Ashworth’s face soured once again. He quickly abandoned the discussion at hand, turning to push his way through the people while muttering something about finding an attendant so as to better have a conversation with the conductor. 

Eventually people began to pull out their phones, some receiving calls, others scoping the news or calling friends and family. A few even checked in with work. Videos lit up screens, showcasing the exact same horrors on the other side of the vestibule as it occurred in other places. Words such as ‘ _ country-wide” _ and ‘ _ military deployment’ _ were bandied and traded about. There was hardly a moment of silence now as people struggled to speak over one another.

All the while those that had just survived by the hairs on their necks struggled to come to terms with what they had seen, and who they had lost.

Hinata gripped Hitoka’s hand even tighter, a stony expression encasing his normally cheerful face. The little girl whimpered and wiped at the endless stream of tears. Her heart was still beating too quickly, and now it was joined by a hollow ache. She squeezed the boy’s hand back with an equal amount of force.

Kei cast them a single parting glance before turning away with his eyes downcast. When Tadashi caught a glimpse of Hitoka’s swollen face his own fell. Neither of them voiced a word as they made their way back to Akiteru. They didn’t know Kageyama well enough to call him a friend, but he was still someone they knew― and to know that he didn’t make it hurt.

Nearby the four remaining members of their volleyball team grouped together and silently mourned the loss of their team. For the captain and the ace there was even more to regret, because they remembered the little boy from the neighborhood that so eagerly wanted to know about life from them.

It didn’t take long for an attendant to make an appearance at the other end of the car, calling to attention that, to make things more comfortable and further prevent accidents, everyone would need to move further back where there were emptier cars. Slowly but surely people began to file their way out. As Hitoka moved with her brother Shoyo’s hand slipped from her grasp.

The little girl stopped and looked at her friend in confusion. “Sho-kun?”

The little boy whirled around so his back was too her. His shoulders shook and he hurriedly raised a hand to wipe at his face, sniffling loudly.

“I― I’m gonna wait for Kageyama!” he whispered shakily. “Just for a little bit.”

Hitoka inhaled sharply, biting her lip and looking to her brother. Why would Shoyo do that? Why would he wait for Tobio when he knew― when they both knew that―

Kōshi looked from Hitoka to the rigid back of the little boy, a sad frown pulling at his entire face as he stared at the child that had lost one of his best friends. Letting go of his sister’s hand the young man went to kneel by Hinata, placing a firm grip on his small shoulder. He didn’t have anything to stay, though, and all he could do was stare into caramel eyes which remained ever focused on what lay in front of him. Hinata sniffled loudly, his whole body rising and falling with the motion. He didn’t want an audience to his grief, no matter how small, his pride wouldn’t allow for it. He was trying so hard to keep himself together but it was difficult for someone that was only nine years old.

So instead Kōshi made a compromise. “We won’t be far, so we’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready. In the meantime please don’t go anywhere else, okay?”

The least he could do was let the kid have a moment to himself, after all. Hinata nodded his head in promise, and the young man have him a small, soft smile before ruffling his hair and standing up to rejoin his sister. Leaving the boy to come to some form of terms with his emotions, the two siblings left car six.

**x❌x**

Kageyama remembered a particular time when he had dared Hinata to climb the large sycamore tree in the back school yard. That idiot had been brave the entire way up, but by the time he had to come down he turned into a scaredy cat. He had to go up there and get Hinata down himself― it was almost ridiculous. 

He’d never admit it, but the scared look on his friend’s face had frightened him too.

But that same day Kageyama had made a promise, though not out loud. He would always be the strong one when the others were scared. He’d protect them with everything he had, even if everything he had was nothing at all. 

Perhaps it was because of this promise that he remembered that the fog couldn’t devour him completely. It felt like an an anchor to him and drove him to stand up and leave his hiding place. Unlike the others trapped in the fog he had aim.

He would get back to Hinata and Hitoka. He had to. Because if he didn’t then who would be there to protect them from what scared them?

**x❌x**

Hitoka still wasn’t convinced that it had been a good idea to leave Shoyo alone. Her anxiety kept nagging at her to keep everyone she cared for close, otherwise she’d lose them. After losing Tobio then she had no qualms about agreeing with anxiety for once.

“We’ll wait right here in the vestibule for him, her brother explained. “That way we can also keep an eye on him, okay?”

She may have nodded, but it still didn’t mean she agreed with her brother. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her brother or Shoyo, but… The little girl turned her back on her brother and stationed herself at the door, beginning a vigilance over her friend. Kōshi began quietly talking not long after and Hitoka guessed that he was on the phone without looking behind her. She refused to look away from Shoyo, constantly afraid of what would happen if she did.

In the seat that he had taken Hinata kept up a vigilance of his own, all the while fiddling with the pocket knife he’d received from his uncle. He found it next to impossible to admit to himself that his bestest, most annoyingly stupidest, extraordinarily brave friend was gone. He nearly had himself convinced that Kageyama was just trapped somewhere in there, or may already be making his way back. There was just no way he had become a mindlessly violent drone like those other people.

But even as he told himself these things a small part of him knew what was true, and it tried to tell him that he needed to let his friend go.

While Hinata sat there struggling with his newfound grief the zombies that had been piled on the other side of the vestibule slowly began to drift away. With nothing to hold their attention they held no purpose. And as they moved away, one small person staggered forward with one goal in mind.

For a second Hinata thought his wishful eyes were playing a cruel trick on him. But as he watched Kageyama open the door, slipping inside the vestibule and quickly closing it behind him, he knew it was no illusion.

Hitoka had reached the exact same conclusion before Shoyo had. But unlike Shoyo she instantly knew something was wrong with this picture. She may not have been in her right mind or able to focus very well, but she recalled how Kageyama had hidden his hand from everyone with pain mingling with fear in his eyes. And the way he was moving now was too reminiscent of the other zombies.

She watched with wide eyes as Shoyo eagerly stood up. Her mouth refused to open as if it were wired shut; she couldn’t shout a warning, couldn’t yell at the boy to stop what he was doing.

He began moving towards the door. Hitoka had to stop him― she was already running as fast as wobbly legs would allow for ―she had to reach him before he reached Tobio. It was a battle that was lost just as it had begun.

Shoyo opened the door and stepped into the vestibule.

“Kageyama,” he breathed.

“Stupid… Hinata,” Tobio wheezed, slumping hard against the fake glass door. “Don’t― Don’t be scared… anymore. I’m here…”

Hitoka slipped through the door just before it shut and she doubled over, gasping.

“ _ Sho-kun don’t _ ―!”

The boy didn’t hear her as he reached out to help his friend up. But Kageyama stilled before shuddering with his whole body. And when his head jerked upright it wasn’t steel blue eyes that greeted him, but cloudy white surrounded by black veins. What was once Kageyama opened his mouth with a his and he lunged at the hand that had been offered to him.

As Hinata fell backwards, his mouth open without a sound, he lost his grip on the pocket knife. It clattered to the floor with the artistic posy face up. Hitoka’s heart nearly stopped for the second time that day as she fell down and watched one friend attack the other.

Beyond the door the living dead were starting to gather again.

The boys grappled with each other, and if Hitoka were none the wiser she would have simply thought they were rough housing yet again over another bet. But they never purposefully tried to hurt each other. No one was supposed to bleed. Or fear for their life.

Hinata barely kept Kageyama at bay, but in exchange his arm had been used as a shield which had been penetrated. He blindly threw punches with his other hand.

Hitoka knew that she needed to help and that she could do nothing herself all at once. The only thing she could do was run away. She wasn’t strong. She couldn’t fight of both of them off once Shoyo changed too. If she didn’t go now she would― they would―

Yet she  _ couldn’t  _ leave Shoyo like this! She had to try something!

Hitoka reached for the fallen pocket knife. 

The movement caught Tobio’s attention.

He released Hinata and sprung towards the girl before she could even grab the weapon. Hitoka ducked beneath the bigger child and tackled him. Because he had been mostly on top of Shoyo then his footing was uneven enough for the tiny girl to actually knock him over, and the two crashed down at an angle. The boy’s head hit the wall with a thud, followed by a sickening crack as he hit the floor next.

Tobio stopped moving. 

Hitoka scrambled away from him. She averted her eyes to avoid looking at the unnatural angle of his neck. Breathing in short, quivering breaths, the little girl moved on to Shoyo. The boy lay curled on his side, whimpering and trembling violently. Already she could see black veins racing upwards through his skin. Tears trickled thick and heavy down her face and she sniffled hard.

“I’m… sorry, Hitoka-chan,” Shoyo whispered, a tear silently falling and hitting the floor. “ _ Run… _ ”

Obeying, the girl shakily got to her feet and shuffled  towards the door. She stopped though and turned around. Shoyo had been so excited to show it to her, the gift from his uncle, she could leave something so precious behind. Hitoka knelt down and picked it up. As she fell a little deeper into a stupor she carefully opened the blade to see it for herself. At the base, carved rather tinily, was the boy’s name.

There was a final wheeze from behind her and the room went quiet save for the sounds beyond the vestibule. Hitoka slowly turned around.

Shoyo, always so warm and bright, had never looked so grey and savage before.

This time Hitoka found her voice and used it. Out of sheer panic she flung her hands out in front of her.

Hitoka did not know the first thing about wielding knives, or how to use them to hit something vital. She did not have experience in using one against other people, let alone to kill them. Instead all she had was an atrociously dumb force of luck and a very sick, very sad sense of irony aiding her.

There was a squelch followed by a weight that forced her to fall back against the wall, followed by short spurt and a strained gurgle. Shoyo froze, staring at her with dead eyes that could truly no longer see, before slowly going slack. Warmth began to trickle from the wound that had been made in his throat just beneath the jaw. It flowed onto the handle and then over her hands. 

Hitoka stared blankly as the blood―  _ his blood, her friend’s blood _ ―slid across the back of her hands and down her exposed wrists. That red was not dark, but bright like vermillion. Bright just like Shoyo.

Her arms shook with the effort of supporting his weight and she let the boy fall sideways, somehow keeping the knife with her. She couldn’t stop looking at the blood on her hands, watching as it darkened across her skin. She didn’t feel as someone pulled her up, away from the carnage. She didn’t hear her name being called or feel herself tucked tightly in an embrace. Everything had stopped moving and gone blank in her mind.

Her hands were forever stained, and she’d never be able to forget it.


End file.
